Disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape or form own the characters in the following piece of fiction. The characters all belong to JK Rowling

Warnings: Slash! Mentions of MPreg, no details. Multiple character death

Dedication: This is written in memory of all those who lost their lives on this day 100 years ago on the RMS Titanic


Wednesday 10 April 1912 – Southampton, England 11.00 a.m.

Harry Potter looked up at the RMS Titanic in awe. It would be the first time he left England and he was really excited about the trip, hoping that he would finally be able to get away from his hateful relatives who had him acting as their unpaid servant. The Dursleys were a second-class family, the Head of Family, Vernon, working as a Department Head for Grunnings Drill Company. His wife, Petunia, was a housewife and spent her days peering out of the windows of their townhouse and spying on the neighbours. Dudley, Harry's cousin, was eighteen, like Harry, and had recently left private schooling. He had attended Smeltings Academy for Boys but was no smarter or better for it. Vernon and Petunia were hoping that Dudley would attend an American university.

"Boy, get the luggage!" Vernon said loudly.

Several of the staff of the Titanic, the White Star Line employees, winced at the man's loud, harsh tone of voice and looked sympathetically at Harry.

While the Dursleys were dressed in the best clothing they could afford, Harry was left to wear Dudley's cast-offs. It wasn't very fair, Harry mused to himself as he struggled to tug the trunks out of the taxi cab, because Dudley liked to indulge in very rich food and was consequently on the large side of fat. He was also, like his father, quite tall. In contrast, Harry was very slender and on the short side. He supposed it was because for as long as he could remember, ever since his parents had been murdered by serial killer Tom Riddle, his bedroom had been a closet. A small closet. He had never been fed very much, either.

"Don't forget my hat box!" Petunia screeched, just as Harry stood on tiptoe to reach up for it.

Harry rolled his eyes without them seeing and pulled down the hat box with exaggerated care. He knew he would get a clip round the ear for that later, in the privacy of Vernon's room, but he didn't care. For once, he didn't need to cook and clean for the Dursleys. All he had to do was keep out of their way and act as valet for them.

"You a'right there?"

Harry looked up and smiled shyly at the steward that had spoken. "Yes, thanks," he said. "You're Scottish."

The burly man grinned. "Aye, tha' I am, laddie," he said. "The name's Oliver Wood."

"Harry Potter," said Harry. "But, apparently, I also answer to Boy."

Oliver raised a quizzical eyebrow but nodded in understanding when Vernon bellowed out, "Boy! Where are you?"

"Here, Uncle," Harry called back hastily, taking great care not to raise his voice overly much as that would lead to accusations of shouting and being an ungrateful whelp who should have died along with his parents. "I have to go," he added in a whisper to Oliver.

"Ye're pretty, fer a lad," said Oliver, his arm twitching by his side, as though he'd wanted to reach out to Harry. "Ken I see you agin?"

Harry looked anxiously around the side of the taxi cab, but Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had been drawn into a conversation with another family. A family with a daughter, by the looks of things. Probably trying to arrange a betrothal for Dudley, Harry thought in some amusement.

"They go to bed early," Harry whispered quickly. "I can meet you on the boat deck at ten."

The steward, Oliver, grinned. "I'll get someone ter cover fer me," he said. "See yer then, pretty boy."

Harry fought to keep a blush from rising on his pale cheeks as he turned from Oliver and started pushing the luggage trolley towards his family.

"And who is this?"

Harry looked up at the woman who had spoken. "Ah," said Uncle Vernon dismissively. "Just our servant. Nobody of any import, Mrs Granger."

"Hi," said the girl with them with a pleasant smile. "I'm Hermione Granger."

Harry didn't reply. He couldn't. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were watching him too closely.

"What cabins, Uncle?" Harry asked quietly. Too quietly for the Grangers to make out what he was saying.

Uncle Vernon thrust the tickets at Harry and told him to look quickly and move on ahead. Harry did so.

"Tickets?" the steward at the door asked.

"I'm the servant for the Dursleys," said Harry nervously. "They have the tickets."

"Can't go on without them," said the steward firmly.

"What's going on here?" Uncle Vernon suddenly boomed from behind Harry.

"Tickets please, sir," said the steward firmly.

Uncle Vernon held them out. "This is the family servant," he added, indicating Harry's presence.

"Very good, sir. I'll have someone show you to your cabins. Weasley!"

A tall redhead with thin gold wired glasses perched on his nose appeared. "Yes, sir!" he said briskly.

"Show these people to their cabins," said the steward. "And do be sharp about it."

"Yes, sir," said the redhead, taking the proffered tickets. "If you would follow me."

"My name is Percy Weasley," the redhead informed them as they walked. "I'll be one of the stewards looking after the second-class passengers. You'll be able to find me in the steward office at the end of the upper second-class corridor most of the time but if I'm not there then my colleague, Cedric Diggory, will be."

"Did you catch that, Boy?" Uncle Vernon demanded.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," said Harry hastily. He had been listening carefully to everything Percy told them because he knew the Dursleys wouldn't be paying him any attention.

"Good," said Uncle Vernon. "This us, then?" he added when they stopped outside two adjacent cabins.

"Yes, this is you," said Percy Weasley. "And you will be where?" he added, looking down his nose at Harry.

"Third-class," Aunt Petunia sniffed. "Can't be having him room with decent people."

Harry rolled his eyes at Percy. "I can find my own way if you just tell me where to go," he said. "I'm sure you have other more important things to be getting on with."

"Yes, well," said Percy, avoiding Harry's eyes. "F Deck. You know your room number?"

Harry nodded hastily. "Very well," said Percy sniffily. "You'll be rooming with five other men."

Harry's eyes went wide. He'd never roomed with anybody before and he was worried that his habitual nightmares would keep the other men awake of a night.

"Yes, sir," he said weakly.

Percy sniffed again, turned on his heel and strode quickly away.

"Get the luggage in the rooms, Boy," said Uncle Vernon impatiently. "The go to your room and don't come out until it's time to get us ready for luncheon."

"Um, Uncle," said Harry nervously as he pushed the trunks into the appropriate rooms. "I'm rooming with five men."

"So?" Uncle Vernon grunted.

"Well, I'm a Bearer," said Harry nervously. "So –"

"You're a bloody freak, is what you are," Uncle Vernon spat. "If you get one in the oven then you can kiss your job goodbye, understood?"

Harry nodded quickly, wondering how he would hide the fact that he was a Bearer from the other five men. He pushed Dudley's trunk into his cabin before dashing off with his own small bag to find his room. He hoped that the other men were nice.

Draco Malfoy watched curiously as a small black-haired boy struggled to push a trolley loaded with trunks up the gangway. The boy was very pretty and it led Draco to wondering if he was possibly a Bearer.

"Draco?" Draco turned at the sound of his mother, Narcissa's voice. "The Parkinsons are here."

Draco struggled not to show his dismay. "Are you still after arranging a marriage between myself and Miss Parkinson, Mother?" he asked.

"Why?" asked Narcissa curiously. "Do you approve of the match?"

"Hardly," Draco drawled. "Miss Parkinson is a most detestable human-being. It's a wonder a person's ears can take the pitch of her voice."

"Don't be rude, dragon," Narcissa gently admonished. "The Parkinsons are a respectable, wealthy family. "A union between us would be most advantageous."

"Mother, if I am forced to marry Miss Parkinson I can guarantee it will be the end of the Malfoy Line," said Draco. "I will not lower myself to sleep with that girl."

"Dragon." Narcissa sighed. "Bearers are so rare," she said gently. "It is highly improbable that we find one to match you with. Less likely that they will be of the correct class."

Draco rolled his eyes, leading his mother out of the suite of rooms. The Parkinsons were staying in a suite of rooms further down the corridor from the Malfoys, much to Draco's displeasure. He knew that his father, Lucius, and Mr Parkinson did a lot of business together and that if he and Pansy Parkinson were to marry, the merger of their two businesses would mean that they would hold a lot more power than they already did. They would, in effect, corner the market.

"Ah, Narcissa," said Mrs Parkinson pleasantly. "There you are. And young Draco. How are you, son?"

"I am very well, thank you, Mrs Parkinson," said Draco cordially.

"Pansy is just freshening up," said Flora Parkinson. "She wants to look nice for you."

Draco fought back a sneer. Pansy was a shallow girl whose topics of conversation revolved around clothes and society gossip. Her long blonde hair was always immaculately curled and pinned into place and she always wore the height of fashion. Draco detested her. He didn't want to hear about the latest scandal or the next new "fabulous thing". Draco wanted someone he could talk to about the business, the latest news, politics. He wanted someone whose life revolved around something.

"Draco, dear, would you mind taking Pansy up to the boat deck to see the ship set sail from the harbour?" Narcissa asked. "I know she would like to wave goodbye to England."

Draco's jaw set. "Of course, Mother," he said rather stiffly.

Pansy came out of the washroom then, a fake bright smile plastered on her face. "Draco, darling," she squealed. "I am so happy to see you!"

She proffered her hand for a kiss, which Draco found himself obligated to take. He kissed the gloved appendage and winced inwardly when Pansy giggled like a schoolgirl. Had she no control over herself?

Draco crooked his arm and felt Pansy slip her hand inside the crook, her fingers digging almost painfully into his forearm. She was like a vulture, her claws hooked onto him and refusing to let go.

"Will you join us, Mother? Mrs Parkinson?" Draco asked politely.

"No, Draco, I think not," said Narcissa, looking to Mrs Parkinson. "We'll take some tea, perhaps."

Draco inclined his head. "Very well," he said. "Please inform Father where I am, should he inquire."

"Of course, Dragon," said Narcissa.

The young couple left the suite and headed for the boat deck. Draco spied, while tuning out Pansy's inane chatter, the same pretty black-haired boy from before standing on the boat deck and leaning over to watch the propellers. Draco itched to greet him but knew he could not while Pansy was hanging on his arm. He made do, instead, with brushing past him and smiling pleasantly when the boy stammered out an apology for being in the way.

"My fault entirely," said Draco smoothly. "I apologise. Please do return to your previous activity."

The boy flushed, lowering his emerald eyes and Draco felt something stirring inside himself. Something he couldn't quite identify. He was tugged away then by an insistent Pansy. She didn't want to stand so close to someone so obviously third-class. Draco knew, though, that he would meet the black-haired boy again. But next time he would be alone.

Wednesday 10 April 1912 – 1.30 p.m.

The Dursleys had retired to their cabins for an afternoon nap, something they regularly did as Uncle Vernon and Dudley ate such vast amounts that they could barely keep their eyes open and Aunt Petunia chose to join them as it kept her occupied and from being bored.

Harry made his way to the steward office for the third-class passengers. He was hoping to have a word with someone. He knocked on the door.

"Ken I help...?" the voice trailed off and Harry's eyes widened when he recognised Oliver Wood. "Harry!"

Harry took a hasty step back when it looked as though Oliver were going to embrace him. "Um, can I have a word?" he asked.

"O' course!" said Oliver, gesturing Harry inside the office. "Come in!"

Oliver shut the door behind Harry. He was tempted to lock it for privacy but he somehow knew that Harry would notice and not appreciate it.

"Wha' ken I do fer you, Harry?"

Harry swallowed nervously and started chewing on his lower lip. "I was wondering if it would be possible to move me to another cabin," he said.

"Why's tha'?" asked Oliver, his expression darkening. "Is someone botherin' yer already?"

Harry shook his head. "No, nothing like that," he said. "It's just..." He hesitated, wondering how to put it into words. "They're all manly men," he said helplessly.

Oliver blinked. "I don' understand," he confessed.

Harry took a deep breath. "I'm a Bearer," he said. "And I feel more secure around women because, well, they can't impregnate me."

Oliver's eyes widened and a massive grin lit up his face. "Well, well, well," he said. "Tha's very interestin', tha'. Wha' ter do wi' this?"

"Please don't," Harry begged. "Don't use this against me."

"Harry, I won' do anythin' yer don' wan' me ter do," Oliver promised seriously. "I can' help ye wi' yer cabin problem bu' I ken have a word wi' yer cabin mates an' tell them ter leave ye well alone."

"You won't tell them I'm a Bearer?" Harry asked anxiously.

"No' if ye don' wan' me ter," said Oliver.

Harry relaxed and gave the taller, burlier man a grateful smile. "Thank you," he said.

Oliver grinned back, leaning forward in his seat so that he was in reaching distance to Harry's hands. "Tell me abou' yerself, Harry," he said.

Harry shrugged. "Not much to tell," he said. "My parents were victims of Tom Riddle. They died when I was a year old. The only reason I escaped the orphanage was because my aunt is too lazy to do the housework so she took me in and trained me up."

"Did ye at least go ter school?" Oliver asked.

"I got the basic education," said Harry with a shrug. "Aunt Petunia was out visiting a lot of the day so I got to sneak into the library and educate myself. That's how I learned I was a Bearer."

"How?" asked Oliver curiously.

"I was reading this old tome about medicine. It was from back when Bearers were first discovered. It told you how to recognise a Bearer. They're always effeminate-looking and their diets don't contain much meat, just a lot of fruit and vegetables and the occasional bit of fish."

"Is tha' wha' you prefer ter eat, then?" asked Oliver.

Harry nodded. "Until I find a suitable husband, yes," he said. "A Bearer's diet will change after their first pregnancy. In order to sustain the foetus I will need to start eating a wider variety of food and that will continue after the pregnancy but my appearance won't change much, unless I don't lose the baby weight."

"I bet yer'll look beautiful wi' a stomach rounded by pregnancy," Oliver said in a husky voice.

Harry couldn't help it. His pale cheeks flushed pink and he lowered his eyes, peering back up at Oliver through his eyelashes. Oliver groaned.

"Do ye believe in love at firs' sigh', Harry?" Oliver asked seriously.

Harry licked his suddenly dry lips. "I'm not sure what I believe in," he whispered.

"Tell me this, then," said Oliver, snatching up Harry's hands and pulling the smaller boy to his feet. "D'ye think ye could be happy wi' me?"

"I –" Harry's voice hitched as he was pulled forward to press against Oliver's muscled front. "I think so," he whispered. "I hope so. You make me feel safe."

A knock on the door interrupted them just as Oliver was lowering his head to steal a kiss. Harry quickly pulled away from Oliver.

"Thank you for your help," he said quickly.

"Wait," said Oliver, as Harry went to leave. "Are we still meeting at ten?"

Harry licked his lips nervously and quickly bobbed his head in assent. "Yes," he whispered, before slipping out the door, nodding at the woman with a screaming child in her arms that waited outside the door.

Draco was walking along the promenade deck with his father while Mr Parkinson discussed business with someone else and the women took tea in the first-class lounge.

"Father, how cemented is my betrothal to Pansy?" Draco casually inquired.

"Whatever do you mean, Draco?" Lucius asked.

"I saw a boy, Father," Draco said slowly. "A most beautiful boy. And I felt something."

"Lust," Lucius said dismissively.

"Believe me, Father, I know what lust feels like," Draco said dryly. "No, this was something more.

"Draco, it is unlikely that this boy you saw could give you an heir," said Lucius. "You may not love Pansy now, but in time –"

"Father, the thought of marrying Pansy makes me sick to my stomach," said Draco. "I can hardly stand to be in the same room as her. Her voice grates on my nerves."

"Well, everyone has their faults," said Lucius. "I am sure you will come to tolerate Pansy's."

"Not soon enough," said Draco bitterly. "Father, just let me have this. If I can manage to find someone that I am sure I can love will you please break off the engagement between myself and Pansy?"

"Provided the girl," Lucius began, "or boy," he added, at Draco's pointed look, "is of the correct class and can provide you with an heir, then you will have my blessing to wed him or her."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. "My thanks, Father," he said. He spied the pretty boy heading towards the second-class lounge. "Please do excuse me, Father."

The tall blond took his leave, his long legs quickly covering the distance between himself and the pretty black-haired boy.

"Good afternoon," Draco greeted, drawing up next to the boy.

The smaller boy started and looked up at Draco warily. "Good afternoon, sir," he said cautiously.

"I am Draco Malfoy," said Draco. "May I enquire as to your name?"

"Harry Potter, sir," said Harry.

"Call me Draco, Harry," said Draco, smiling pleasantly at the smaller boy. "Who are you travelling with, Harry?"

"My relatives, sir," said Harry.

"Relatives?" Draco queried.

"My aunt, uncle and cousin, sir," said Harry. "I must hurry, sir. They'll be wanting tea soon."

"Surely the staff can see to their needs?" said Draco.

"Yes, sir, but they insist on me talking to the staff," said Harry. "I'm a burden, see, sir. No better than the staff, sir."

"But they're second-class passengers?" Draco enquired, looking faintly shocked.

"Yes, sir," said Harry. "I really must go, sir. They'll get angry if I'm late."

"Of course," said Draco, reluctantly admitting to himself that he would need to go slow with Harry because of their obvious class-difference. "May I meet with you tonight?"

"I can't, sir," said Harry. "I'm already meeting someone tonight. Someone of my own class," he added pointedly.

"Then tomorrow," Draco persisted.

Harry hesitated. "I can meet you after they take their luncheon," he said. "They always take a nap after their luncheon."

"What time?" Draco asked.

"Half past one," said Harry. "I really must go now," he added, looking desperately toward the second-class lounge.

"Of course," said Draco. He took Harry's hand and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of it. "Until tomorrow."

Harry blushed and slowly pulled his hand away. "Until tomorrow," he whispered, before breaking away from Draco and hurrying towards the second-class lounge.

Draco watched him and go and smiled to himself, pleased with this turn of events.

Wednesday 10 April 1912 – 10.00 p.m.

Harry could see Oliver already waiting for him on the boat deck. He was pacing agitatedly. Harry took several deep breaths. He was nervous. Very nervous. He knew exactly what Oliver was after from him and was terrified by the strength of want he had for the exact same thing himself. He'd never felt drawn to another man the way he felt drawn to Oliver. Except, he finally admitted to himself, when he had spoken to Draco Malfoy. But he knew he had no chance with the first-class gentleman, though it hadn't stopped him from making a date with the blond for the next day.

Harry took a final deep breath before stepping out onto the boat deck. Oliver whipped round at the sound of his footsteps.

"Hello," Harry said quietly.

"Hello," Oliver said back. He strode forwards and took Harry's hands in his own. "Are ye ready fer a walk wi' me?"

Harry nodded, rather shyly. "Just a walk, right?" he said.

"Aye," said Oliver with a grin. "Though I may sneak a kiss at the end o' it."

"I don't think I'll mind overly much," said Harry, his cheeks pinking as he spoke.

Oliver's grin widened and threatened to split his face. He dropped one of Harry's hands but, still holding the other, tucked Harry's arm through the crook of his own. They started walking along the boat deck, talking about anything and everything that they could speak of.

It was very cold on the boat deck at that time of night and Harry, not having much fat on his bones, was shivering violently after only a few minutes so Oliver wrapped an arm around him and drew him in closer to his own body, in an effort to share body heat. Harry snuggled quite happily up against his side.

"Would you go against my uncle to keep me safe?" Harry asked quietly.

"Eh?" asked Oliver. "What d'ye mean?"

"My uncle," said Harry. "When Titanic docks, I think I'd like to stay with you but my uncle won't be happy about it."

"Would ye really like ter stay wi' me, pretty boy?" Oliver asked in delight.

Harry nodded shyly and blushed when Oliver practically whooped in excitement. "But my uncle," he said again.

"I'll take care o' him," Oliver promised, tightening his grip on Harry. "He won't be able ter take ye from me."

Harry smiled, tilting his head up so he could look into Oliver's face. Oliver smiled back down at him as they came to a stop and turned their bodies to face one another. "You're so beautiful," Oliver whispered, running a single finger down Harry's pale cheek.

Harry flushed. He would have lowered in his eyes in embarrassment but Oliver's face was coming closer and then their lips were meeting. Harry sighed happily, lifting his arms to wind them around Oliver's neck. Oliver's arms snaked around Harry's thin waist and pulled him so tightly against his body that there was no air between them. Oliver's tongue probed at Harry's lips and Harry eagerly parted them, shivering when Oliver's tongue wound around his. Small, slender fingers dug themselves into thick brown hair while longer, thicker fingers dipped slightly below the waistband of Harry's trousers.

Harry felt something hard prodding at his abdomen and blushed, knowing what it was. He rose on his tiptoes to ease the crick in his neck and gasped when his erection suddenly clashed with Oliver's. He felt cold air blowing across the skin of his back as he pressed harder against Oliver's front. His shirt had been untucked from his trousers and calloused fingers were now dancing across his bared skin.

Harry could tell that Oliver was trying so hard not to touch him inappropriately. Trying so hard not to push Harry up against the nearest wall and ravish him completely, but he couldn't help wanting him to. He gently thrust his slender hips to rub up against Oliver's arousal and the next thing he knew he'd been spun around and was almost bent backwards over the railing as Oliver's hips thrust hard against his.

Harry tore his lips away from Oliver's, gasping for breath. He threw his head back as those lips attached themselves to his neck.

"O-Oliver!" he panted.

His voice seemed to break the spell, however, and Oliver suddenly back away, running his hands over his face and through his mussed hair.

"I'm sorry," he apologised thickly. "But ye were –"

Harry stopped him by pressing a finger to the taller male's lips. "Don't be sorry," he said. "I wanted it just as much as you did."

Oliver breathed a sigh of relief. "Come on," he said. "I'll walk ye back ter ye cabin."

"Will I get another kiss?" Harry asked hopefully.

Oliver chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Harry's head. "Only a small one," he teased.

"At least I'll get one," Harry said happily.

They walked slowly down to F deck and when they reached Harry's cabin, the small boy pressed back against the wall and allowed Oliver to once more ravish his mouth. He almost moaned in disappointment when Oliver finally detached himself with dilated eyes and cheeks flushed with arousal.

"Goodnight, Harry," Oliver managed to say.

Harry blinked dazedly before smiling himself. "Goodnight, Oliver."

"Same time termorrow?" Oliver asked hopefully.

Harry smiled widely and nodded eagerly. "Oh, yes please," he breathed.

"Lord, don't do tha'," Oliver groaned. "Don't talk like tha' when ye look like tha'."

"Like what?" Harry asked innocently.

Oliver just shook his head and backed away down the corridor. "Until termorrow, pretty boy," he said.

Harry smiled and shut his cabin door behind him. He was quiet as he undressed and slid into his bunk. His cabin mates didn't even notice he was late to bed. Harry had very pleasant dreams that night.

Thursday 11 April 1912 – Atlantic Ocean 1.30 p.m.

Harry was nervous as he met Draco Malfoy on the promenade deck that afternoon. He knew he was looking tired due to his late night with Oliver.

"Good afternoon, Harry," Draco greeted him pleasantly. "I hope you are well?"

"Yes, thank you, sir," said Harry nervously.

"Please, Harry, do call me Draco," said Draco.

Harry licked his lips nervously. "Alright," he said. "Draco."

Draco smiled and held out his arm for Harry to take. "Tell me about yourself, Harry," he said. "Where are your parents?"

"Dead," said Harry. "They passed when I was a baby."

"I'm sorry," said Draco, patting Harry's hand sympathetically.

Harry shrugged. "It's alright," he said. "I don't remember them at all."

"And how is it that you hold a third-class ticket while your relatives hold second-class?" Draco asked. "How are you related to them?"

"My mother was my aunt's sister," said Harry. "I suppose my mother either married within her class or below her class while my aunt married within her class or above her class. My uncle works for Grunnings Drill Company. He's a Head of Department there."

"But how come they didn't elevate you to their standing?" Draco persisted.

"They don't like me," Harry said bluntly. "They call me a freak because I'm a Bearer."

Draco's eyes lit up. "A Bearer?" he said excitedly. "Really? How fantastic."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Look, can we change the subject? I don't like talking about my relatives. Once we reach America I'm leaving them for a better life."

"Really?" said Draco. "Do you have a job lined up in New York, then?"

"No," said Harry bluntly. "I'm eloping."

"With whom?" Draco asked jealously.

"What does that matter?" Harry asked.

"I like you," Draco said. "I saw you yesterday and I was instantly intrigued by you. I would like to prove myself to you."

"But," Harry stammered. "But you're of a higher class than me."

"I don't care," Draco insisted. "Please, just give me a chance."

Harry chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. "Alright," he whispered after a time. "Prove yourself."

Draco smiled widely. "Have dinner with me tonight," he said. "Meet my parents."

"I can't," said Harry horrified. "I won't be dressed right and I'll show you up!"

"I don't care about any of that," said Draco. "Please?"

Harry hesitated. "I can't tonight," he said regretfully. "I'll need to plead ill health to my relatives to get out of dressing them for dinner. Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," Draco quickly agreed. "But you'll walk with me after luncheon tomorrow as well?"

Harry nodded. "Yes," he agreed.

"And perhaps a walk tonight as well?" Draco inquired hopefully.

Harry smiled. "I'm meeting someone tonight," he said.

Draco sighed in disappointment. "Very well," he said.

Harry discreetly snuck a glance at Draco's pocket watch and winced at the time. "I must go," he said, almost regretfully.

Draco sighed in resignation. "Of course," he said. "Until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Harry agreed. Then he smiled as Draco leant forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. His hand moved up to hover over his cheek as Draco smiled at him before inclining his head and turning to walk away. Harry hesitated before hurrying after him. "Draco!"

Draco turned in time to fold his arms around Harry as the smaller boy rose up to press a lingering kiss to Draco's cheek in return.

"Tomorrow," Harry whispered, slowly drawing back from the aristocratic blond.

Draco had a very silly grin on his face when he returned to his parents. "Draco?" Lucius queried. "Were you with that boy you seem to be smitten with?"

"Yes, Father," said Draco. "And I found out something very interesting about him today."

"What's that, Dragon?" Narcissa inquired, setting down her embroidery.

"He's a Bearer," said Draco smugly.

"And what is his class?" Lucius inquired.

"His relatives are second-class," Draco admitted, not daring to admit that Harry himself was poorer than poor.

"What does that matter, Lucius darling?" Narcissa said, her eyes gleaming excitedly. "Just think what a boon to the family name it would be to have a Bearer sire the next Malfoy heir!"

"Don't think of him like that, Mother," said Draco sharply. "Harry is not just a Bearer but a person as well. Hopefully he will be my husband some day."

"We'll see," said Narcissa, through pursed lips.

Thursday 11 April 1912 – 10.00 p.m.

"I have something to confess to you," Harry said as he and Oliver strolled along the boat deck.

"Oh aye?" said Oliver. "Wha's tha' then?"

"I met someone yesterday," said Harry quietly. "He asked to meet me today, after luncheon. I agreed and we went for a walk. He wants me to give him a chance."

"A chance?" asked Oliver.

"To win me," said Harry, blushing. "I'm sorry but I couldn't say no to him. It would have hurt his feelings."

"Tha's alright, pretty boy," said Oliver, squeezing Harry reassuringly. "Ye'll make whatever choice makes ye happy."

Harry blinked tears away from his eyes as he pulled Oliver to a stop. "I think I love you," he said, and reached up to pull Oliver into a passionate kiss.

Oliver moaned low in his throat and walked Harry backwards so that he was pushed up against a wall. He ran a hand down Harry's side, cupping it around Harry's slender hip. His thumbs rubbed circles on the outside of Harry's thigh while his other hand cupped the back of Harry's head, holding him close.

Harry whimpered, rising up onto his tiptoes to press their erections together. "Oliver!" he whined, bucking his hips.

Oliver growled into Harry's mouth and the hand cupping his hip moved to grip the underside of his thigh so he could hoist it up around his waist. "God, Harry," he moaned, tearing his mouth away from Harry's lips so he could rub their hips together to create delicious friction.

"Please," Harry whimpered, gripping Oliver's shoulders tightly and throwing his head back to give Oliver better access to his neck.

"We should stop," Oliver panted, not moving away from Harry.

"Or at least go somewhere more private," Harry moaned.

"Ye're no' supposed ter say tha'," Oliver groaned, pulling at Harry's other leg, encouraging him to jump and wrap both legs around his waist.

"Why not?" Harry asked innocently, as Oliver cupped his hands around Harry's arse to keep him steady around his waist and started walking Harry to somewhere more private.

"Because ye're too much o' a temptation already, laddie," said Oliver, eyes searching for somewhere private. "You sayin' tha' jus' makes me want ter ravish ye even more."

"Oh goodie," said Harry in delight. "The gymnasium should be empty," he added helpfully.

"Ye're no' helpin', pretty boy," Oliver groaned.

"Oh." Harry pouted. "Am I supposed to help? What do you want me to say?"

"Nothin' at all," said Oliver, fumbling for the door handle to the gymnasium.

They finally fell through the door and Harry was once more pushed up against a wall, but this time Oliver had one hand busy undoing Harry's trousers.

"Are you going to make love to me now, Oliver?" Harry panted, arching his back.

"No' yet, pretty boy," said Oliver, finally sliding his hand into the front of Harry's trousers and wrapping his calloused fingers around Harry's aching, leaking erection. Harry groaned and his head thumped back against the wall.

"O-Oliver," Harry panted as the taller male started stroking him into ecstasy. "Not fair! Want to touch!"

"No' terday, pretty," Oliver breathed. "Terday is all abou' yerself."

Harry fought to catch his breath as Oliver stroked him faster. "Stop," he begged, thrashing his head from side to side. "No, please don't."

Oliver's hand stilled. "Wha's wrong?" he asked anxiously. "Is it too much fer ye?"

"No," Harry gasped out. He weakly pushed at Oliver's chest until the burlier boy stepped back from him, removing his hand from Harry's trousers. "I – I don't want anything to happen unless it's happening to both of us," he finally managed to say, as firmly as he possibly could.

"Bu' why?" Oliver asked, puzzled.

Harry shrugged. "That's just how I want it," he muttered, suddenly embarrassed. He fumbled to do up his trousers again, tucking his shirt back into the waistband messily. He definitely looked ravished.

Oliver turned away from Harry. It took him longer to calm his hormones down as a ravished-looking Harry was even more appealing than a decently dressed one. When he finally had his hormones under control, he turned back to Harry and reached out to him, tucking him firmly under his arm and against his side.

"It's alright," he said reassuringly to the distressed boy. "Our firs' time will be special te the both o' us."

Harry smiled, sagging in relief. "Thank you, Olly," he said, beaming up at the taller man.

Oliver coughed and said, gruffly, "I'll take ye back te ye cabin now."

Harry rested his head against Oliver's shoulder as they walked, smiling all the while.

Friday 12 April 1912 – Atlantic Ocean 7.00 p.m.

"You look amazing," Draco complimented Harry when he showed up on the promenade deck.

Harry blushed. When he had met Draco that afternoon for their walk along the promenade deck Draco had been holding a tuxedo for Harry. It was too big for Harry when he tried it on but Harry was, luckily, handy with a needle due to needing to adjust Uncle Vernon and Dudley's clothes on a frequent basis. Harry had spent the remainder of his afternoon pleading ill health to his relatives and adjusting the tuxedo to fit him. He had snuck some of Dudley's pomade and used it to slick his hair back. He'd had to use a lot of it to control his flyaway hair.

"Don't exaggerate," he said now. "I look like a mutton dressed as lamb."

"I disagree," said Draco, taking Harry's hand and kissing the back of it. "I think you look as though you belong."

Harry felt more than a little uncomfortable as his hand was tucked into the crook of Draco's elbow and he was led into the first-class dining hall. He felt like he was on show, especially the way a family of three were staring at him with a hard expression in their eyes.

"Who are they?" he whispered to Draco, indicating the family.

Draco glanced over before leaning in to whisper back to Harry. "The Parkinsons," he murmured. "Our families have an arrangement. If I cannot find a suitable husband or wife then I will be made to marry Pansy. Believe me, that is something I really hope does not happen."

"So, you're betrothed?" Harry said, looking a little puzzled.

"In a way, yes," said Draco. "I've been fighting it every step of the way. Pansy is like a vulture. Once she gets her claws into you there is no mercy."

Harry gave a faint smile but he was inwardly horrified. If Draco were chasing after him then that poor girl was short one fiancé.

Draco discreetly indicated a trio standing a ways away. "That's Sirius Black," he said. "My mother's cousin. They don't speak. My second cousin, Nymphadora, is married to his best friend Remus Lupin and pregnant with their first child. That's them with him. He's paid for them to travel on the Titanic. They couldn't have afforded it otherwise. Sirius is great friends with Captain Dumbledore, while my father is great friends with the First Officer, Severus Snape."

He then indicated a trio of women gossiping happily. "That's Ladies McGonagall, Trelawney and Sprout," he said. "They are known in society for passing on the latest gossip. Lady Trelawney fancies herself something of a clairvoyant. She predicted that this maiden voyage will end in disaster and, ultimately, death."

Harry looked concerned at that and Draco was quick to reassure him. "Lady Trelawney is rather morbid a person," he said. "Everything she predicts results in death and destruction. It never comes true."

Two people caught Harry's attention and Draco quickly explained. "That's Carolena Zabini and her son, Blaise. Ms Zabini is known as a Black Widow."

"Why's that?" Harry asked curiously.

"She's been married a lot," said Draco. "Always to men with a great fortune behind them. they mysteriously die just months after the marriage, leaving everything to Ms Zabini. She's the richest woman on the ship."

They moved over to their table then and took their seats. Harry immediately felt uncomfortable as all eyes shot to him.

"Do you work, Mr Potter?" Narcissa Malfoy asked politely.

Harry nodded. "Yes, I work for my aunt and uncle," he said.

"Doing what?" Pansy asked snidely, her sharp eyes having noticed the calluses on Harry's slender hands.

"Whatever they ask of me," Harry said, attempting to be diplomatic.

"So, if they asked you to clean their bathroom you would," said Pansy.

Harry nodded, resigned to the fact that he was being made a show of. "Yes, I would," he said.

"So you're basically a servant," said Pansy derisively.

"A servant!" Narcissa looked horrified. "Dragon –"

"Mother," Draco said warningly.

"Mother," said Pansy, "I'm being passed over for a servant. This is totally unacceptable!"

"I agree," said Flora Parkinson. "Richard, dear, do have a word in private with Lucius later on. This really is unacceptable."

"Now, Flora," said Narcissa, looking concerned.

"No, Narcissa," said Flora sharply. "I won't have it! How could your son even begin to imagine that some lowly servant is better than my Pansy?"

"I honestly have no idea," said Narcissa, looking darkly at her son.

Harry pushed back his chair. "I apologise," he said stiffly. "I did not mean to ruin your evening meal. I find I have lost my appetite. If you'll excuse me."

He didn't wait for a response but strode quickly out of the dining hall. He was shaking with anger. He knew he would be looked down upon but he was made to look like a fool. Draco should have known how they would react to his presence at their table for their meal.

Footsteps behind him alerted him to Draco's presence.

"I'm sorry," Draco apologised. "I had no idea they would react so badly to you."

Harry snorted. "Please," he said derisively. "You know them as people, surely you would have some idea of what their reaction would be."

"I honestly didn't think they would take it this far," said Draco, moving to stand in front of Harry and prevent him from walking away.

"What do you want from me, Draco?" Harry asked wearily.

Draco took a step forward so that they were almost touching they were so close together. "I told you," he said quietly. "I want to prove myself to you."

"But why?" Harry asked helplessly. "I don't belong in your world and you sure as hell don't belong in mine."

"Then why can't we merge our two worlds together and make one just for us?" said Draco. He reached out and cupped Harry's cheek. "I may not know you very well, Harry, but I would do anything to make you happy."

"Then back off," said Harry quietly. "Go about your life and I'll go about mine. That would make me very happy."

"I don't believe that," said Draco, his thumb caressing Harry's cheek bone.

Despite himself, Harry leaned into Draco's touch. It felt nice, comforting. His frayed nerves were calming at the touch.

"One more chance?" Draco begged. "Please."

Harry opened his eyes, not knowing when they had fluttered closed. "Alright," he agreed, knowing he was completely lost. "One more chance. But this time, just you and me. Tomorrow night, boat deck, ten o'clock. You'll have an hour to prove yourself to me."

With that, Harry pulled himself away from Draco and hurried back to his cabin. His appetite had gone for now but he knew that if he didn't sleep then within a couple of hours he'd be hungry again. It was best to sleep through it until he could get some breakfast in the morning.

Saturday 13 April 1912 – Atlantic Ocean 10.45 p.m.

Oliver had been very disappointed when Harry had dropped by to inform him that he couldn't see him that night either but Harry had assured him he loved him and that Draco would be let down gently at the end of the evening. But Harry now found himself in a dilemma. Draco had more than proved himself over the last forty-five minutes. He hadn't scoffed at anything Harry had said and had, in fact, agreed with him on occasion. Harry had felt himself falling for the aristocratic blond with every word spoken and now he knew he was in love with two men and he had to make a decision.

"Draco." Harry pulled the blond to a stop.

"You've made a choice, haven't you," Draco said softly.

"I love Oliver," said Harry desperately. "I love him so much. But –"

Draco's ears perked up at this. "Yes?" he said eagerly.

"I find I love you as well," Harry admitted.

"Ah." Draco looked resigned. "I know I can't compete with the man you fell in love with first, Harry," he said. "Don't worry, I can take it."

Harry gave him a small sad smile. "I'm so sorry," he said, resting his hand on Draco's cheek.

"May I at least kiss you just once?" Draco asked quietly.

Harry nodded, reaching up with his other arm to wind both of them around Draco's neck. "One kiss," he agreed.

Draco smiled and lowered his head, placing his hands on Harry's hips to keep them occupied. Their lips touched gently at first and then applied more pressure. Harry's stomach was swooping in a fashion he'd never felt before. With Oliver it was so intense, so passionate that he could feel all his nerves firing at once and he couldn't quite make out whether he was right side up or not. With Draco everything was centred on his stomach, which seemed to disappear and reappear with every change of pressure.

Draco didn't attempt to take it any further. He was the perfect gentleman and pulled back after a time, resting his forehead against Harry's.

"If you ever change your mind," he said. "I'm never going to marry Pansy."

Harry opened his eyes and emerald green clashed with silver. Harry smiled softly and pressed one last gentle kiss to Draco's lips.

"Goodbye," he whispered.

Sunday 14 April 1912 – Atlantic Ocean 1.30 p.m.

Harry knocked hesitantly on the door to the third-class steward office, hoping that it would be Oliver inside.

"Come in," he heard.

Harry cracked the door open and beamed when he saw Oliver lounging inside. "Hello," he said.

"Harry!" Oliver took his feet off the desk and reached out to pull Harry onto his lap. "How did it go last night?"

"I love you," said Harry, snuggling into Oliver's embrace.

"And I you, pretty boy," said Oliver. "But wha' happened last night?"

"I told him that although I was very fond of him I loved you and would be leaving with you when the ship docks," said Harry.

Oliver let out a deep whoosh of breath. "I'm on shift now bu' I ken kick my cabin mates out o' our room fer a few wee hours ternight," he said. "Would tha' be acceptable ter ye?"

"That would be very acceptable," Harry said happily. "Shall I meet you at ten?"

"Aye," said Oliver. "Meet me here."

Harry pressed a quick kiss to Oliver's lips and jumped to his feet. "I'll see you tonight then," he said chirpily.

Sunday 14 April 1912 – 10.00 p.m.

It was a nervous Harry that met Oliver at ten. He walked awkwardly beside the taller male as they made their way to Oliver's cabin.

"Nervous?" Oliver asked, shutting and locking the door behind them.

Harry nodded, twisting his hands nervously in front of him. "I've never," he started to stammer out.

But Oliver stopped him. "Tha' doesn't matter," he said. "I know wha' ter do."

They moved to sit on Oliver's low bunk, side by side until Oliver gently pushed Harry down so that he was lying on his back. Neither spoke but Harry raised his arms and wound them around Oliver's neck. His emerald eyes were wide and stared directly into Oliver's gentle brown eyes.

Oliver hooked a hand underneath one of Harry's legs and gently shifted it so that Harry's legs parted enough that he could settle comfortably between them. They lay like that a while before Oliver moved to unbutton Harry's shirt. His movements were slow and unhurried and his eyes never moved from Harry's. He watched Harry's every reaction, smiled at every hitch of breath when his fingers accidentally grazed over the smaller boy's nipples.

Harry's chest was bared to Oliver and the slender boy sat up to remove the shirt completely. He lay back down and hesitantly reached up to begin unbuttoning Oliver's own shirt. His breath hitched at the sight of Oliver's muscled chest and it caused Oliver to push Harry's hands away so he could rip his shirt off and lay back down over Harry, finally claiming his lips in a passionate kiss.

Harry moaned as he parted his lips for Oliver's insistent tongue. He couldn't stop his hands from moving, touching Oliver's muscled chest and back, up his muscled arms and over his broad shoulders. His fingers dove into his thick hair and curled into it, holding on tight as the sensation of falling overtook him when Oliver took one of his nipples between his thumb and forefingers and rolled it gently.

Harry's back arched up and he gasped breathlessly into Oliver's mouth. "Oh!" he gasped.

"Ye like tha', baby?" Oliver panted.

"More!" Harry demanded. "More, Oliver!"

Oliver chuckled, moving his lips over Harry's jaw and down to his neck, nipping and sucking at the thin boy's pulse point. Harry's fingers danced over Oliver's abdomen, feeling the muscles clench beneath his touch. Harry gasped, fighting to catch his breath only to lose it again when Oliver moved to suck his other nipple into his mouth. The thin boy whined loudly and bucked his hips up into Oliver's, hearing the taller boy hiss and curse under his breath.

Then Oliver's hands were flicking Harry's trousers open and tugging them down, easily lifting the small boy's hips to pull them off, throwing them into a corner of the room. He made light work of Harry's underwear as well.

"Off," Harry said, tugging at Oliver's trousers as well.

Oliver's expression was intense as he sat back from Harry and made quick work of his trousers and underwear. His eyes were black with desire now and they never left Harry's own bottle green ones. He reached under his pillow and brought out a small bottle of olive oil.

"Ready fer this, pretty?" Oliver asked, unscrewing the lid.

"Oh yes," Harry breathed. "More than ready."

Oliver flashed him a predatory grin and coated his fingers in the oil. "It's going to hurt," he warned the smaller boy.

Harry swallowed thickly. "I know," he said.

Oliver shifted and pushed Harry's legs up so that they were as bent as they could possibly be, his ankles almost pressing against his arse. Oliver settled back over Harry again and drew him into another passionate kiss, one finger all the while circling his small, puckered opening. Oliver moved to press kisses down Harry's slender neck and down to his chest, and just as he sucked one of Harry's nipples into his mouth he penetrated Harry with a single finger.

Harry whimpered and tensed at the pain but Oliver murmured soothingly around his nipple and moved back up to kiss him gently.

"Alrigh', pretty?" Oliver murmured after a while, feeling Harry gradually relax around his finger.

"Yes," Harry said shakily.

Oliver kissed him again and gingerly crooked his finger inside his small lover. Harry hissed sharply and tensed again but relaxed again almost immediately. Oliver gently wiggled his finger about, stretching Harry so minutely that it was barely noticeable to him. He shifted further down Harry's body, circling his tongue in and around Harry's navel as he eased a second finger inside Harry. Harry tensed again.

"Shhh," Oliver whispered soothingly.

He moved to suck on the inside of Harry's thigh, scissoring his fingers at the same time. Harry made a strange, strangled noise and Oliver fought back a laugh at the sound.

"Alrigh'?" he asked once more.

"Uh huh," Harry said tightly.

Oliver nipped at sucked at Harry's thigh, crooking his fingers and wiggling them about. Bingo, he thought when Harry suddenly arched his back and cried out, eyes opening wide in pleasure.

"Oh!" he exclaimed loudly.

"There ye go," said Oliver smugly, tracing his fingers over that spot continuously, causing Harry to see stars.

He delicately entered a third finger but Harry was so enraptured by the feelings coursing through his body at this point that he barely noticed the extra stretching it caused to his body. Oliver scissored all three of his fingers and wiggled them about, causing Harry to writhe underneath him as his prostate was continuously hit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting up and down his spine.

"Are ye ready?" Oliver finally grunted.

"Y-yes," Harry panted.

Oliver removed his fingers from the stretched hole and shifted to line himself up. He coated his erection liberally with the oil and hooked Harry's legs over his shoulders.

"Ready?" he asked again.

Harry nodded and Oliver pushed slowly in, leaning down to pull Harry into a passionate kiss at the same time. Harry whined and whimpered into Oliver's mouth as he was stretched more than he had ever been. He felt no pleasure from this.

"Alrigh'?" Oliver panted harshly once he was buried to the hilt inside his small lover.

"Hurts," Harry whimpered.

"I know, baby, I know," said Oliver. "Bu' ye'll adjust and then ye'll feel nothing bu' pleasure."

Harry gradually relaxed around Oliver, so the taller boy rolled his hips experimentally. Harry whimpered and tensed up again but Oliver persevered. He pulled back and thrust his hips back in with more force than before. Harry bit his lip in pain. Oliver adjusted the angle of hips and pulled out and thrust back in again. It took a few tries but Oliver soon found Harry's prostate again and grinned when Harry cried out, arching his back and squeezing around him deliciously.

Oliver built up his momentum and was soon pounding away at Harry's pleasure spot. Harry's head was thrashing from side to side and he was practically screaming his pleasure for everyone to hear. Oliver drilled away, biting and licking at Harry's neck. He could feel his climax drawing nearer, could feel his balls tightening, so reached between the two of them with his hand and started stroking Harry in time with his thrusts. It didn't take long for Harry to come undone in his arms. He tensed, squeezed so tightly around Oliver that he thought he would die from the painful pleasure, and then shuddered as he spat come all over their chests. His release was Oliver's undoing and he shuddered and groaned loudly as he thrust erratically into Harry, coating his insides with his sperm.

Oliver slowly lowered himself so that he was covering Harry almost like a blanket. They were both trembling and sweaty. Harry closed his eyes and tightened his shaky arms around Oliver. He ached terribly but pleasantly at the same time.

"Are you alright?" Harry finally asked.

"Exhausted," Oliver mumbled. He pulled out of Harry and rolled to the side, his eyes shut and his legs trembling.

Harry wiggled over to cuddle up against Oliver's side. He rested his head on Oliver's shoulder and soon they both drifted off to sleep.

Sunday 14 April 1912 – 11.40 p.m.

Harry and Oliver were jerked awake when they heard a groaning noise and felt the boat shudder violently.

"What was that?" Harry gasped.

"Probably a propeller," said Oliver. He moved to climb out of bed only to curse when he stepped into freezing cold water. He reached over and turned the light on and cursed again when he realised the cabin was filling with water. "Get dressed, Harry," he demanded, throwing Harry's clothes to him.

"Why?" Harry asked, looking bewildered. "Where's the water coming from? What's happening?"

"The ship is like as no' sinking," said Oliver. "D'ye want te get anything from yer cabin?"

"No," said Harry. "I don't have anything."

"Let's go then," said Oliver, not even giving Harry time to tie the laces of his boots.

Then they were running down the corridor, which was quickly filling with more and more water. Harry spied a cabin mate of his, Seamus Finnigan, who was trying to get two pretty Indian girls to wear their life jackets. Harry thought their names might have been Padma and Parvati Patil but he couldn't be sure.

Oliver pushed past the crowd at the gates leading up to the higher decks of the ship. "Let us through," he said to the stairwell steward.

"Only you, mate," said the redhead firmly.

"He's a Bearer," Oliver hissed agitatedly. "He needs to be on a boat."

"Only you, mate," the redhead repeated.

Harry looked up at Oliver with wide, panicked eyes. Oliver looked around and thrust Harry towards Seamus and the two girls. "Look after him," he demanded. "Ye don't let him out o' yer sight."

Seamus nodded rapidly as a tall black boy joined them. "Got it, mate," he said.

One of the girls wrapped a comforting arm around Harry. "Don't worry," she said, her voice lilting musically. "I'm sure they'll let us out soon."

"Oliver!" Harry called, watching his lover push his way back to the gate.

Oliver didn't look back.

"What on earth is going on?" Draco demanded, having felt a minor tremble and then heard the engines stop.

A steward knocked and came into the suite. "Sir, I must insist you put on a life jacket and make your way to the boat deck."

Draco waved at him to silence. "What's going on?" he demanded forcefully. "Should we be worried?"

"Just routine, sir," the steward said, obviously lying. "Please make your way to the boat deck."

Draco watched him leave with mounting horror. He quickly turned to the cupboard the life jackets were in and pulled out three of them. Not caring for the social niceties, he barged into the sitting room, disturbing his parents.

"Draco!" Narcissa gasped. "At least knock!"

"The ship is sinking," Draco said bluntly, thrusting the life jackets at them before fastening his own on. "Captain's orders are to make our way to the boat deck. Women and children will likely be the first onto the lifeboats."

"But this is the Titanic," Narcissa blustered, as Lucius helped her into the life jacket. "We were assured she couldn't sink."

"We were told wrong," Draco snapped. "Father, I'll meet you on the boat deck. I have to find Harry."

"Make them aware he's a Bearer," Lucius told his son. "They'll put him on a boat with the women and children then."

"Yes, Father," said Draco, and dashed out of the room.

Harry was growing more and more panicked. Seamus' black friend, Dean Thomas, had gone and found blankets for Harry, Padma and Parvati. Harry was already shivering. He didn't have much fat on his body due to being underfed pretty much his whole life. The water was licking around their ankles now and Harry was panicking. He had never learnt how to swim so unless he managed to get onto a lifeboat his fate was pretty much sealed.

"They're letting women and children through to the next deck now," Seamus said, returning to their side. "I mentioned Harry being a Bearer and he's also allowed through. We'll have to be discreet, though."

"Women and children only!" the redhead was shouting. Harry thought he resembled Percy Weasley, the second-class steward.

Dean pushed Padma and Parvati forward and Harry followed behind them. "Women and children only," the redhead reminded him, holding an arm out to bar his way.

"This is Harry," Dean hissed. "The Bearer."

The redhead looked between Harry and Dean cautiously, before nodding his agreement. Harry slipped through and the redhead locked the gate behind him.

"Good luck," he whispered to Dean and Seamus who were hanging onto the gate, watching him and the twins. "And God bless."

"Be safe," they whispered back.

One of the twins started to cry, Harry thought it was Parvati. He watched her lean towards the gate and press a passionate kiss to Dean's lips. "I'll always love you," she whispered brokenly.

Harry thought he ought to act like a man for the first time in his life so he took both girls by the elbow and forcefully led them towards the gate leading up to the next deck.

Monday 15 April 1912 – 12.30 a.m.

"Where is that blasted boy?" Uncle Vernon grumbled as he and Dudley struggled to fasten their lifejackets around their vast middles.

Dudley was steadfastly ignoring Hermione, his brand new fiancée. She was frantically reciting all the facts she'd read about surviving the sinking of a ship. None of them were at all relevant to their situation but that didn't matter; nobody was listening to her anyway.

Draco pushed past the two families in his search for Harry. He'd tried second-class first in case Harry was with the family he worked for, but he wasn't. He must have been in his third-class cabin when the ship hit the iceberg.

He pushed past people who were coming up the stairs and made his way down instead. He was soon stopped at the locked gate leading to D deck.

"Harry!" he shouted, rattling the gates.

"Draco!" he heard call back.

Then Harry was pushing his way to the front of the crowd, pulling two girls behind him. Harry looked beautiful in his panic. His emerald eyes were wide and nearly pure green, his jet-black hair was rumpled from his sleep and his clothes creased, as though pulled on in a great hurry. He had a blanket wrapped around his body for warmth.

"Open this gate!" Draco demanded of the stairwell steward.

"Not until all the first and second-class passengers are safely off the ship," the steward stubbornly refused.

"Open this gate," Draco said again, pulling a wad of money from his pocket.

The steward eyed the money longingly but again shook his head. "Money won't do me any good where I'm going," he said matter-of-factly.

"Please," Draco pleaded, throwing his dignity away in his desperation.

"Draco, don't worry about me," said Harry, reaching out to him through the bars of the gate.

"But I do worry about you," said Draco, turning back to Harry and grasping his smaller hand tightly. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Harry said desperately. "But you should go."

"Not without you," Draco refused. He turned back to the steward again. "Please," he said. "I'm begging you, please."

The steward looked torn. "Him only," he said.

"Not without Padma and Parvati," Harry said. "I can't save everyone but I can save them. I promised Dean and Seamus."

"Alright!" said the steward. "Just you three, though."

"Thank you," Draco breathed in relief. "Thank you."

The steward fumbled and cracked the gate open enough for the three youngsters to slip through. Then he stopped. He could see the water quickly filling up the stairwell leading the deck below. The water would soon be upon them. He made his decision and threw both gates open wide. "Go!" he said, starting to run himself. "Save yourselves!"

With a cry, everyone burst forward. People were screaming and crying in fear. Draco was already tugging Harry and the twins towards the boat deck.

"Draco!" said Harry, seeing that the majority of the front of the ship was submerged in water already. Looking down he could see that the back of the ship was starting to rise into the air. He was terrified.

"Padma! Parvati!"

The twins turned and were engulfed in hugs from a sopping wet Seamus and Dean. "We had to fight our way out in the end," Seamus told Harry and Draco. "I'm sorry, Harry, but Oliver – "

Harry swallowed heavily. "I thought it would happen," he said thickly. "He was crew. People were bound to turn on him."

"He told us to tell you," Dean started, but Harry quickly shook his head.

"I know," he said simply, welcoming Draco's arms around him.

"We have to find lifeboats," said Draco.

"They're all gone," said Dean. "We need to stay on the ship as long as possible otherwise the suction will kill us."

"Back of the ship then," said Seamus. "Come on."

As Draco followed Harry and his friends towards the back of the ship, he spared a thought for his parents, hoping that they had managed to get on a lifeboat and get away.

Getting to the back of the ship was hard-going; it was becoming a steeper incline by the minute and Draco just knew that the ship would soon be vertical.

"We have to climb over the railings," he told Dean and Seamus. "The boat will be vertical and our arms will get tired hanging from them."

"Agreed," said Dean.

They pushed their way to the railing and quickly helped the girls and Harry over the rails before pulling themselves over. Draco draped himself over Harry's back, resting his face next to Harry's.

"If we survive this," he whispered. "I'm going to marry you."

Harry swallowed thickly. "Can we name our first son –?"

"Of course," said Draco, not even needing to hear the end of the sentence to know what Harry was asking. "And our second can be named after your father."

"I'd like that," said Harry softly.

There was a groaning sound then and they all watched, wide-eyed, as the ship started to break in two. Everyone screamed as the rear of the ship fell, fast, back towards the surface of the water. Parvati's grip on the railing slipped and she screamed fearfully, thinking she would fall to her death, but Dean was right behind her and kept her safe by the skin of his teeth.

"Blimey, love," he huffed. "We're never going on a ship again, as long as we live."

"We?" Parvati queried shakily through her tears.

"Yeah," said Dean. "You don't think I'm gonna let you go now that I've found you. You're going to be Parvati Thomas soon enough."

"Two marriage proposals," Harry chirped, trying to make light of the situation. "Can we make a third?"

Padma snorted. "No chance," she said as cheerfully as she could, seeing as the boat was steadily rising again, higher than before. "Me and Seamus have had fun but we're not for each other."

"You might change your mind yet," Parvati said sensibly.

"I don't think this is the time for this conversation," Seamus snapped impatiently. "Look, we're going to be sucked down in the water."

Harry started hyperventilating. "I can't swim," he said in a panicked voice. "Draco!"

"Don't worry," Draco said in a voice that was more confident than he felt. "Keep hold of me and I'll keep you safe."

"When I say, everyone take a deep breath," said Dean firmly.

The water was coming closer and closer, Harry moved his hand to grip Draco's tightly. He felt the blond kiss his cheek in comfort.

"This is it!" Dean shouted. "Now!"

Harry drew in as deep a breath as he could just as he felt his body hit the freezing cold water. Some of that breath was expelled in shock by the cold of the water but he never let go of Draco, trusting the blond to lead him to the service.

Harry panicked when he didn't reach the surface as quick as he liked. His lungs burned with a need to exhale and inhale more oxygen. Then his head broke the surface and he gulped in the cold night air gratefully. He could feel Draco still holding him. His blanket was long gone.

Draco looked about and spotted two doors floating near one another. If he was lucky they could reach them before anyone else. Then Dean and Parvati were there.

"Get on, Harry," said Draco.

Harry clambered on as Parvati was helped onto the other door. Draco moved around to the other side and tried to get on that way, but it wasn't happening. Every time he and Dean tried to mount the doors they would start sinking under the extra weight. They would have to wait in the water. Luckily, Draco was still dressed in his tuxedo and had thrown his overcoat on over the top. All Harry had was a thick jumper and Parvati didn't even have that.

Draco shrugged out of his overcoat and passed it over to Parvati to put on. "You'll freeze," he said simply.

A nearby officer was blowing on his whistle in an effort to get the lifeboats to come back for them.

"What's going to happen to us, Draco?" Harry asked, shivering violently.

"The boats will come back," said Draco confidently. "They will."

"We need to keep talking," Harry mumbled. "If we're talking we won't sleep."

"Ok," Draco agreed through chattering teeth. "What do you want to talk about?"

"What do you do?" asked Harry, his voice gaining strength as his mind slowly released itself from the fog that had been encasing it.

Monday 15 April 1912 – 3.15 a.m.

Everyone had fallen silent. Draco was still moving, shifting around the door every now and then to get his blood pumping again. It was his own effort in staving off death. He had instructed Dean to do the same but the black boy had fallen still a while ago. Parvati had fallen still not long after Dean and, apologising profusely to God, Draco had swam over to retrieve his overcoat and persuaded Harry to put it on. Harry had instantly felt warmer but had still fallen still. Draco could hear him murmuring quietly to himself, reciting something that Draco couldn't make out. At least Draco knew he was alive. Draco squeezed the brunet's hand reassuringly and moved to face Harry.

"The boats will be here soon," Draco whispered. "I'm sure of it."

Harry slowly turned his head to gaze, almost unseeingly, out of the ocean of dead bodies. He felt like giving up.

"Draco," he murmured. "Draco, is that a boat?"

Draco turned his head to face the same direction as Harry. "Yes," he breathed in relief. "It is. Stay here, I'll go whistle them over."

Stiffly, Draco swam over to where the officer had been floating and removed the whistle from around his neck. He swam back over to Harry and pressed a cold kiss to the parted lips. "We're saved," he whispered, before placing the whistle in his mouth and blowing as hard as he could.

Sunday 15 April 2012 – 12.00 p.m.

Four adults met up in London for lunch. They were all very elderly, the eldest, Oliver, due to turn 97 that year. They made their way to their favourite dining place. It was an unspoken arrangement. Their parents had died ever so long ago but their children had silently agreed to meet for lunch on the day they had survived the sinking of the Titanic exactly 100 years ago.

Oliver Malfoy, the eldest child of Draco and Harry Malfoy, had been born 05 September 1915. Oliver had always known that Harry had soft spot for him as he was named for Harry's lost love. The love he would have married had he not died aboard the Titanic before it went under.

James Malfoy, the second child of Draco and Harry Malfoy, had been born 18 February 1920. James had always known that he held a soft spot in Draco's heart, for he was a reminder that Draco had survive the First World War without any harm befalling him. He had been very lucky.

Scorpius Malfoy, the youngest son of Draco and Harry Malfoy, had been born 11 March 1922. He was his grandmother, Narcissa's, favourite. He knew this because he had been named in Narcissa's family tradition, from the stars. Narcissa had loved that her family tradition had been continued in at least one child. To please her, Scorpius had continued the tradition in his family as well.

Then there was Lily Malfoy, the only daughter of Draco and Harry Malfoy. She had been born 24 May 1925. The apple of her grandfather, Lucius' eye, she was the only one to inherit Draco's blond locks and Harry's emerald eyes. A classic beauty, Lily had gone on to prove to the world that she was anything but an ordinary lady. A tomboy by nature, Lily had rebelled at all the feminine classes she had been forced to take, but when it came to the crunch she was more than willing to train as a nurse.

Now they were at the Adelphi hotel in London, taking their seats for a lunch in memory of their parents and grandparents and all those who had lost their lives on the fateful night the Titanic sank.

A/N: Hi guys! Thank's so much for reading this. I will admit that this is unbeated because I really wanted to get this posted on either the fourteenth or fifteenth of April to commemorate the sinking of Titanic so I apologise for any mistakes you see in this, they are all mine entirely.

You'll have noticed that I took creative liberty and entirely ignored the fact that homosexuality was illegal in the early twentieth century and got around that fact by creating a rare gene that enables some men to become pregnant. I do hope you forgive me this.

Thanks again for reading!