Harry and Draco flooed to the Weasleys and Draco was subdued as usual. Harry knew he was trying to get to like them, but history was a difficult obstacle to overcome. But Hermione and Ron were trying, too, though Hermione was better at it than Ron.

"Harry," said Hermione, "why don't you help me in the kitchen a moment."

"What's the matter, Hermione?" said Draco. "Forget how to do kitchen magic? If you want to talk to Harry alone, just say so."

"Well…I was just trying to be polite."

"Right."

Harry gave Draco a withering look and disappeared into the kitchen with her. She grabbed his arm and dragged him to the farthest corner. "Well?" she hissed. "Have you heard from the Wizengamot?"

Harry couldn't repress a smile and reached into his robes to pull out the parchment and handed it to her to read. She scanned it quickly, burst into a smile, and threw her arms around him. "Oh Harry! That's wonderful!" She handed it back. "I'm a bit worried about these 'provisions', though. Have you made an appointment with them yet?"

"Nope. I'm just going to bask in the glory for a little first before the bad news hits."

"It may not be bad news."

Harry looked at her. "Have you ever known it not to be?"

"Well anyway, have you asked Draco yet?"

"No. I'm getting a ring made and I'm asking him on the fourth."

"Why the fourth?"

"It's his birthday. And I doubt he's celebrated it properly for some years. So it's a good cover."

"Harry, I'm so happy."

"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "Me too. You know, I'd like to ask Ron to be my best man. How do you think he'd feel about that?"

Hermione grew thoughtful, raised her wand, and flicked it toward the cooker where the bubbling pots settled down to a simmer. "Well, he might not be too keen at first, but after he got over the initial shock he'd come round. In the end I know he'd be hurt if you asked anyone else. Want me to break the ice first?"

"Would you? I'm planning on having the wedding at Hogwarts in August. I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't object."

"August? That's quick."

"Why wait? We're already going to spend our lives together. Might as well do it right away."

"Have you thought of a guest list?"

"I was hoping for something small, you know, just the Weaselys, and maybe the teachers. If you'd like, I'd appreciate your help-"

"I'll do it!"

He laughed. "Haven't got the whole wedding planned already, have you?"

She blushed. "No. But I have been thinking about it. But Harry. What about Draco?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…who will he invite?"

"Oh. I haven't thought about that." Draco's closest relatives were dead and his friends were mostly in prison or didn't associate with him anymore. It would be a decidedly lopsided affair. "Gosh, Hermione. What do we do about that?"

"Let me think about it. We'd better go back now. Don't know what Draco and Ron are getting up to out there alone."

They returned to the lounge and found Draco and Ron sitting on opposite sides of the room drinking their butterbeers and glaring at one another in silence.

"We didn't interrupt, did we?" asked Harry with a twinkle in his eye.

Draco rolled his eyes. "No. Weasley here was just teaching me the fine art of ignoring his guest."

"Well you could have struck up a topic of conversation, too," whined Ron.

"Shall we chat about the Ministry, then? Do tell."

"I do work on some interesting things, you know."

"Interesting to whom? Not to me."

"You lived as a Muggle. I should think you would find it interesting."

"Oh yes. I simply love to be reminded of that. And of how inept I was when I first had to learn…well, EVERYTHING."

Ron reddened. Harry thought this a good moment to step in. "How about a game of exploding snap? I haven't played that in a long time."

Hermione was staring at Draco with a decidedly silly look on her face. Draco noticed when he turned to her. "Hermione, why are you looking at me like that?"

She shook it off and stood up. "I've got to go and see about dinner," she said brightly and flew out of the room.

"Come on, Draco," said Harry. "Join us."

Draco wore a familiar expression that told Harry he was about to hurl an insult, but much to his credit, he held it in. Instead, he meandered to where he and Ron were sitting and took up the cards.

* * *

Draco had to admit by the end of the evening he was feeling more comfortable with the Weasleys, but it seemed that each time he was in their presence was like starting all over again. Would they ever become used to the other? The only reason he bothered trying at all was because of Harry. After all, he hadn't called anyone a Mudblood for almost a year. At least not out loud.

Exploding snap was fun. It reminded him of better days at Hogwarts. Of course he wouldn't have been caught dead playing with a Gryffindor then, but Ron was actually good at it.

Later, after dinner, they all settled in the lounge again, and Hermione had broken out some decent brandy and they all seemed to get still more comfortable with one another.

"So what are your plans for the summer?" asked Ron, and this time, for once, he aimed the question directly at Draco.

"Oh I don't know. Try not to get Harry sick of the sight of me."

The others chuckled at that, taking it for a joke, though Draco was deadly serious.

Harry chuckled the loudest. "Fat chance of that," he said and smiled that sickly sweet smile that made Draco melt. Did Harry really mean it? Were his fears really only that: silly fears? "Having been in love with you on and off for the last-oh, eight years-I don't think one summer would do it, do you?"

Draco sat back, teasing his lips with the snifter's rim and inhaling the fireglow of brandy. Could it be true? But wasn't Harry just being…well, Harry?

"Why don't we all take a trip together?" suggested Ron, his nose redder than usual.

Hermione suddenly sat up and tried to wave furtively at him. In the haziness that was Draco's mind, he wondered why. Ron finally caught sight of her and glared at her quizzically. "What are you on about, Hermione?"

"Ron, I think we have plans."

"Plans? What plans?"

"I'll tell you about them later."

"Woo-hoo, Weasley," chuckled Draco. "Sounds like someone's in for a shagging good summer."

"Shut up, Malfoy. That's my wife you're talking about."

Draco shuddered. "Oh. Thanks for reminding me. And on that note…" He rose shakily to his feet. "Harry. I fear we have overstayed our welcome. We are all pissed and I think we need to get out of the Weasleys' hair."

Hermione protested but Harry shook his head. "Draco's right. I'm barely awake. We've got to get going. It was a lovely evening. Thanks for everything." He gave Hermione a hug and kissed her cheek and then took Ron's hand warmly.

Draco turned toward the fireplace when someone grabbed him, turned him, and enveloped him in an unexpected embrace. He got a whiff of ordinary shampoo as his face clouded with bushy brown hair. More surprised than off put at being hugged by a Muggle-born, Draco stood back and looked at her. "I'm just so glad you could come," she said to him with a smile. But her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. How drunk was she?

They flooed back to Harry's London flat instead of trying to make their way to Hogwarts in their inebriated state. And for the first time since they shared a bed, they didn't make love before they fell asleep in each other's arms. Vaguely, Draco worried over it before he succumbed to drowsiness, but reasoned that they were simply too drunk and exhausted.

When they awoke the next morning, Harry began to fondle him with his hands and lips and his fears were set aside.

* * *

For the next few days, Harry worked on the Dark Mark problem and thought a rat would be the best thing. It was small, he could keep it in a cage, and cover it with his invisibility cloak. But after he got it, it reminded him of Scabbers which inevitably reminded him of Peter Pettigrew. His feelings over Pettigrew were mixed. After all, he was responsible for getting his parents killed, but hadn't he helped save Harry in the end? *

Nevertheless, he put aside his distaste and obtained a rat, shaved part of its fur, and prepared the spell to inflict a Dark Mark on it. This was only the second time Harry would have performed Dark Magic. The first was when he sent the cutting curse on Malfoy in their sixth year, the spell Snape created. He didn't worry over this new spell as his intentions were good, or so he consoled himself. Perhaps he should consult Dumbledore. But what if the old wizard told him not to do it? How was he ever to help Draco? Besides, he was Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Shouldn't he have a little practical knowledge about casting Dark spells?

Alone in his study, the shaved rat sitting in its cage, Harry prepared. First he locked his door with several spells. He certainly didn't want a student to barge in on him during the trickiest part, nor did he want Draco to see what he was doing. He'd probably be horrified that Harry was performing Dark Magic, and Harry knew that he himself should be too, but a part of him was also a little excited about it. He imagined it was like a Muggle child sneaking off to smoke a cigarette or even indulging in recreational drugs.

He studied all the books he could find in the restricted section of the library and even took a few trips to the Ministry's archives, but could find very little there that he was allowed access to. Finally, a trip to Knockturn Alley had helped the most, though he had to go disguised with a Transfiguration charm. He found a very old book in a shop near Borgin and Burkes, something Voldemort might have seen when he was a boy. Harry purchased it and took his time examining it, certain the book itself was charmed-and he had been right. It was spelled to fend off curiosity seekers and opened its secrets to only those with real interest. Its magic reminded Harry a little of Tom Riddle's diary.

The Mark didn't have to look like Voldemort's. In fact, he wanted it look as little like the Dark Mark as possible and in a fit of nervous giggles, Harry decided it might be amusing to make it look like the Gryffindor lion. It made him feel as if he was doing magic a little less Dark with the Gryffindor mascot staring back at him.

Finally, all was ready, and he took one last look at the locked door, and glanced at all the ingredients carefully laid out and prepared. With a snort he thought that Snape would at last be proud. He lit the hob for the cauldron and cast in the ingredients one at a time, just as the book indicated. There was a very long incantation to recite, and Harry began to murmur it while he waved his wand anti-clockwise over the rat. It would have to be a slightly different sort of spell as the Dark Mark had to be accepted willingly and he doubted the rat was capable of a thoughtful decision in that regard. He also didn't want to make the mistake of summoning the Death Eaters. That would get him in a world of trouble.

Green smoke swirled up from the depths of the cauldron and spiraled into the air. The candles suddenly snuffed out and Harry faltered slightly in his incantation. His eyes darted to the black ribbon of smoke from the pinched wicks, but he pressed on, squinting at the book and reading only from the light of the cauldron's smoke and the hob. His heart began to beat faster as the room darkened, as if a huge, smothering cloak were being cast over the ceiling. The cauldron's smoke followed the movement of his wand as if it were being sucked there and finally found the rat. Suddenly, the rat keened and ran frantically around in its cage but it could not escape the threads of the smoke and the Dark Magic enveloping it. Harry watched as he murmured, fascinated, horrified, as the smoke descended upon the rat. The rodent suddenly reared up, threw back its head, rolled back its eyes, and stiffened with pain. The Mark-the Gryffindor lion-burned bright green as it emerged from its skin, sending shafts of light in every direction. The rat couldn't move while in the thrall of the curse, and suddenly the smoke pulled away like an ebbing tide, the light went out, and the rat fell lifeless to the bottom of its cage.

Harry breathed. The magic that had surged through him was powerful, heady, amazing. It made him feel stronger and somehow more alive. He staggered back and nearly dropped his wand. He stood quietly a moment as the feeling slowly left him. Is this what Voldemort had craved, this welling of pleasurable feeling and sensation? No wonder he sought it. And no wonder it consumed him. Like an addict, he had allowed it to take over his life, and the more he took in, the less human he became. Harry shook his head and stared at the now quiet cauldron. This was something he dare not try again. It was too much. Too intriguing. Too addicting. Too dangerous.

He glanced at the rat again and felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. He never liked hurting any creature, and certainly this rat was innocent. Now he was afraid he'd killed it. He hadn't thought about that.

He leaned toward the cage and rattled it. "Hey little guy. You all right? Don't be dead, okay?" A stab of panic flamed his heart.

He heard the faintest of squeaks and the little whiskers twitched. Suddenly the rat leapt to his feet and licked frantically at the Mark. Harry winced. "I'm sorry I had to do that. But there's one more experiment I have to make."

He gripped his wand and closed his eyes, concentrating. "I summon thee, I summon thee, I summon thee…"

Magical light exploded from his wand's tip, illuminating the darkened room. The rat keened again and Harry opened his eyes. The Mark glowed green and the rat cringed, doubling over.

It worked. "I release you!" he cried, his wand brightening, and the glow receded from the Mark. The rat relaxed again, and returned to licking the Mark.

Harry blew out a breath, feeling a little sick. So here he was dabbling a little in Voldemort territory. That sickened him even more. Quickly, so he wouldn't have to be reminded, he tossed the invisibility cloak over the cage, charmed it with a silencing charm, and fell exhausted and spent into his leather chair. He kept telling himself it was worth it. If he could find the cure to release Draco from the Dark Mark it would all be worth it.

Wouldn't it?

*A/N: JKR hints in the Prisoner of Azkaban that since Harry saved Pettigrew's life from Remus and Sirius that Pettigrew owes Harry, and he will probably play some role in Voldemort's destruction, either saving Harry or helping to defeat the Dark Lord.



On to Chapter Four
"Proposal"

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"Love's Arrow"

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