Harry awoke to something nibbling on his ear. He opened one eye and saw a blurry canopy rising up into the ceiling from an unfamiliar bed. Well, not entirely unfamiliar. He suddenly remembered where he was, and he recognized that "something" nibbling on his ear to be a someone. "Draco," he murmured, and closed his eye again.

Malfoy Manor. That's where he was. After much soul-searching, Harry had realized it wasn't economically feasible and a little pointless to keep the London flat when he and Draco owned an entire estate that went virtually unused. It wasn't so bad when they stayed there on their honeymoon (once the ghost of Lucius Malfoy was sent on, that is) and Harry was getting to like the idea of all that green space and the peacefulness that it offered. After all, anonymity was why he chose a Muggle flat in the first place. Certainly living in the wilds of Wiltshire afforded him much-needed privacy.

And it had the added benefit of making Draco very happy. And whatever made Draco happy was sure to trickle down to Harry.

As it was certainly doing now.

Without opening his eyes Harry rolled over and slipped into his lover's arms. Draco wrapped himself about Harry and hugged him close. "Happy anniversary," Draco whispered into his hair, lips moving on to kiss his temple.

Harry smiled. August the 12th. Yes, one year ago today they were married. What a mad time it was! "We made it," Harry replied and Draco hugged him tighter.

"You doubted it?"

"Only our surviving. Not about us. I'm absolutely certain about us." He nuzzled Draco's neck, burrowing his face into the warm sweetness, the scent of him. His lips kissed the salty skin. They'd made love last night over and over again into the wee hours. Harry was sore and he was certain Draco was too. But he knew that if Draco pressed, Harry would willingly give in to him once more.

Draco sighed. "Since I'm hopelessly in love with you I'd have to agree."

"It's lovely waking up to you every morning."

"Likewise, Harry love."

Then, suddenly, Draco jumped out of bed and, completely starkers, rummaged for something on the desk. He padded back to bed, tossed back the covers, and brandished a quill.

"Going to write a letter, Malfoy?"

Draco knelt on the bed beside Harry. "Close your eyes."

A tight knot of suspicion grabbed his gut. It was like the old feeling he'd had in school about Draco. "Why?"

"Just do it, Potter. You won't be sorry."

"I don't know about that."

He sighed. "Just close your eyes, dammit. You don't think I'd hurt you, do you?"

Harry swept his eyes shut. Of course he trusted Draco. They were married for Merlin's sake. He felt the feather tip at his forehead brushing lightly where his scar used to be and smiled. The feather slowly brushed across his eyebrows and his closed lids, playing with his lashes, then down the length of his nose, over his cheeks, to his mouth, and finally his chin. It was an annoying feeling, really, and he made an impatient breath. "Malfoy…"

"Patience, Potter. I never met anyone with less patience. Except for myself, of course." The feather traveled along his jaw, tickled in his ear a bit, and then swept down his neck. But when it got to his chest, Harry's reluctance finally fled. This felt good. More than good. Because when the softness of the feather teased a nipple, certain parts of Harry were sitting up and taking notice. A groan escaped his lips and Draco chuckled above him. "You see. Patience."

The feather flicked at the nipple which grew harder under its touch. Harry began to pant. Okay, so this was feeling really good now. The feather swathed across his chest and down his sides, first running down the ribcage and then up in a long sweep that touched the other nipple. Harry writhed. Draco made the feather weave a wavy pattern down his torso and over his belly toying with the furry beginnings of his pubic hair. But he deliberately avoided Harry's straining erection and drew the feather down to the hollow of his hip and down the hair of his upper thigh.

"Oh Draco," he moaned.

"Not so annoying now, is it?"

"Mmmm…no."

Draco lifted the feather from his skin and the rippling sensations immediately ceased. "Want more?"

Harry's body arched upward. "Yes!"

"Ask for it."

"You damnable Slytherin!"

"Now is that how you ask nicely?"

Harry kept his eyes shut tight and fisted the sheets. "Okay then. Please. More?"

"Do you want more…here?" The feather dragged along his thigh dipping down to the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. He ran it down to his knee and brought it up incredibly slow to just below his bollocks.

"Oh yes! Draco!"

"How about…here?" The feather touched the other thigh and threaded over the other hip, running dangerously close to his pubic hair.

"You're driving me mad!"

He chuckled. "Of course I am. That was my intention. But how about…here?" At last, the feather just swiped at the bottom of his sac. His bollocks drew up at the same time Harry bucked his hips.

"Oh!"

"More, Harry?"

"Draco! Please! Merlin, yes!"

The feather danced across Harry's bollocks and finally came to rest at the base of his cock. Draco swished the feather and slowly, slowly dragged it up the shaft. Harry raised his hips and made a gurgling sound and when the feather reached the glans and swatted at the ridge Harry burst into Parseltongue.

"Like that, do you?" Draco purred. "You're speaking Parseltongue again. Did you know? I wonder if I can make you come this way. Just by my using the feather on you. Do you think so? Should I try?"

He didn't wait for an answer. The feather danced lightly at first up and down the stiff shaft, but then Draco added pressure and each barb spread and enfolded his prick, stroking in agonizing waves of pleasure up and down the thick vein along the underside. Harry shut his eyes again but then heard the unmistakable sound of flesh on flesh. He opened his eyes again to watch Draco fisting his own prick, hand pumping furiously. There was almost nothing better than Draco touching himself and with the sensations of the feather and Draco's hand wrapped around his own stiff cock, Harry suddenly let loose with a furious grunt, shooting white, sticky strings over his stomach. Draco's eyes widened and soon he, too, exploded over his hand.

Draco cast the wet feather aside and pressed his body against Harry's, mingling their spunk between their bellies. "Harry," he breathed.

"Interesting…use…of the quill…Malfoy," he panted, recovering.

"Well, the pen is mightier than the sword."

Harry reached up and kissed his husband. "Yes, I think you've proven that quite well."

A sound at the window drew them both and they turned. An owl pecked at the French doors. Draco looked at Harry before he rose. He grabbed his wand from under the pillow and waved it over both of them with a non-verbal Scourgify! Then he walked to the window and opened it. The owl swooped into the room and circled once before landing in the middle of the bed.

"Cheeky bastard," muttered Draco at the bird and took the message from its extended foot. He unrolled the parchment and shot up to his feet. "Merlin's beard!"

Harry sat up. "What? What is it?"

"It's Hermione."

Harry's heart suddenly flamed with fear. "She's all right, isn't she?"

Draco turned a grin toward Harry as the owl took flight again, not waiting for a return message. "Hermione's gone to St. Mungo's. She's in labor. Looks like we could be godparents any time now."

It took Harry a moment to absorb Draco's words, but once he had, a wide grin split his face. "Gosh."

"Do you think we should go?"

"Yes! Why not? I'm sure Ron could use the support."

They quickly cleaned up and dressed and decided to floo.

St. Mungo's was busy as usual but when the milling patients and healers noticed Harry, many stopped and watched him, whispering to their companions under their hands.

Harry leaned over the receptionist's desk. "Is there a Mrs. Ron Weasley here?"

The healer didn't even look down into her book. "Oh yes, Mr. Potter. She's in ward six, second floor. There is a waiting area for family."

"Thanks."

But as he turned to go, the witch said, "Er…Mr. Potter. I wonder if you wouldn't mind…could you sign my Chocolate Frog card?" She proffered the familiar card of Harry's seventeen-year-old self. The picture looked him over appreciatively, as if to say, "Looking good, Harry!"

"Erm…sure. Have you a quill?"

Draco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

Harry took the quill and gave it a cursory look and tried not to laugh. The thought of a quill now had an entirely new significance for him. He signed his name quickly and handed back card and quill before taking Draco's arm and leading him toward the lift.

On the second floor it wasn't hard to find the waiting area. Several red-headed people were spilling from a doorway.

"Harry!" cried Ginny, and she ran down the corridor and leapt into his arms. "Isn't this exciting?" She turned to Draco and took him into a hug. He stiffened at first but then relaxed. "Draco! You're going to be a god-daddy!"

But at those words, both Draco and Harry looked up into the scowling face of Fleur Weasley. "Yes," she said, French accent still thick. "There is no accounting for taste or good sense."

"Give it a rest, Fleur," said Ginny wearily. It seemed this argument had been going on a long time.

Fleur tossed her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her head, and turned deliberately away from Draco to smile at Harry. It was funny how the Veela thing still sometimes affected him, despite his orientation. "'ello, 'Ar-ree!" And she kissed him on both cheeks. She lifted an eyebrow toward Draco, never quite looking at him again, and flounced away.

Mrs. Weasley gave Fleur a warning glare before she enveloped Harry then Draco. "It's the big day, isn't it?"

"How long do these things usually take?" he asked.

"Oh my." She slipped her arm into Mr. Weasleys when he came up beside her. "How long did it take for all the boys, Arthur?"

"Well now," he said, straightening his horn-rimmed glasses and thinking. "As I recall, Percy took a day and a half."

"Figures," muttered Draco.

"Bill and Charlie were each late," said Mr. Weasley. "But the twins came a day early."

"And we almost didn't make it here," added Mrs. Weasley with a laugh. "Trouble from the first moment, those two. But Ron and Ginny were just as easy as pie."

"Little wonder after all that," muttered Draco only loud enough for Harry to hear. He elbowed Draco and tried not to laugh.

"This is Hermione's first," said Molly. "And she's such a little thing. It may take a while. It may even take until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Harry hadn't counted on that. He suddenly felt very badly for Hermione. He didn't know it could take so long. "Where's Ron?"

"He's with her, of course."

Harry looked at Draco. He knew Ron could face magical beasts and Dark wizards, but being in a delivery room? He didn't imagine Ron was faring very well.

"Better him than me," said Draco with a shiver.

"Say," said Fred-he was pretty sure it was Fred-coming toward him. "Isn't this a special day for Little Harry and Ickle Draky-kins?"

George wrapped his arm over Fred's shoulder. "Oh yes! It's the happy couple's anniversary, if I'm not mistaken."

Harry felt his face grow warm. "Er…yes. But we wouldn't have missed this."

There were handshakes and back-slapping and Ginny hugged the two of them again. After a little more conversation, everyone settled down again to wait.

Draco twirled his wand as he usually did when he was bored. Harry watched Ginny transfigure George's shoes into squirrels and back again when he wasn't looking, but mostly it was a long time of simply waiting and listening in and out to snippets of conversations, startling awake when a healer came in for periodic reports, and just staring out windows at an oblivious Muggle London.

Harry stood at the glass and watched the clouds meander across the blue sky, a sky he might have willingly jumped into on his broom if he weren't in the hospital waiting room. He saw his reflection, and it made him ponder. He, Ron, and Hermione had been through a lot, more than most, and certainly at a younger age than most. If he let himself think about it, he might get overwhelmed by their history. And the fact that Draco had been on the other side of their efforts for a long time made for strange memories indeed. But the Chocolate Frog card incident and many like it reminded him at odd times of their past. So sheltered at Hogwarts, he was constantly reminded of his status whenever he left it. But he never felt famous. Never that he was special. Not really. Yes, he'd done some extraordinary things and he was a very powerful wizard, but he only had to recall Gilderoy Lockhart to get his head back in the right place.

But now, here was something entirely different. Here was something he simply could not control. Hermione was having a baby. A new person was coming into the world. Into their lives. Nothing would ever be the same again. Ron and Hermione would soon be parents with a whole new set of responsibilities. Yes, it would all be different. But he didn't think it would be a bad thing.

All at once, Harry was jerked from his thoughts by a blinding pain. His hand slapped the window to steady himself and his other flew to his-forehead? But that's impossible! The scar was gone. Voldemort was gone. Why then did the place on his forehead where his scar used to be burn and split like it did when the scar was there and Voldemort was somewhere doing evil?

"Harry? You okay?" Draco's hands were on his shoulders.

Harry breathed and the pain slowly faded. He gave a listless chuckle. His reflection showed the confusion on his pale face. "Yeah. I'm fine."

* * *

In the wee hours of August 13th, Hermione Weasley gave birth to a bright pink little girl they called Anne Molly Weasley. Harry stood over the bed and just looked at Hermione, hair all a'tangle, holding the small bundle in her arms. Ron sat on the bed next to her and Mr. and Mrs. Granger stood in one corner of the room talking with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

Hermione looked up at Harry and smiled. "Happy anniversary, Harry."

"Happy birthday…Anne Weasley."

Hermione giggled. Ron stroked her hair. "She's beautiful, isn't she Harry?"

Harry reached out, paused, and then continued on and touched lightly the little plump cheek. "Yes," he whispered. "She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

A shadow fell over the sheets and Harry knew instantly it was Draco. Hermione smiled at him. "Meet your goddaughter, Draco."

Draco wore a vulnerable expression, something Harry had never seen on the Slytherin before. His brows winged outward and his lips were parted and pale.

"Would you like to hold her?" she asked.

Harry just assumed that Draco-in his state-would refuse, but he cleared his throat and merely reached forward. Hermione slipped the bundle into Draco's arms. "You've got to support the head right now." And Draco did as told.

Draco now held the small baby sleeping peacefully in his crooked arms and Harry's heart nearly burst at the sight. Draco's face was mesmerized by the tiny face. "She keeps making little noises," he said quietly, awestruck.

"Babies do that," she said.

"She doesn't have any hair," he said.

Ron chuckled. "Not now. But anyone want odds as to what color it will be?"

"Little Annie doesn't want horrible red Weasley hair, does she?"

Harry nearly fainted. Was Draco talking baby talk?

Ron shook his head at Draco. "Harry, want to hold her? Once the grandparents get her you'll never get her back."

"Can I?" He turned to Draco and Draco carefully handed her over. They locked eyes and Harry couldn't guess as to what his husband might be thinking.

She was very light, like nothing at all, but he felt stupid and awkward as if he were wrapped in foam, trying to hold her properly. But she felt good and she was making little snuffling noises, not unlike a pygmy puff. "Anne's your grandmother's name, right?" he said to Hermione.

"Yes," said Hermione. "She's passed on, but she would have been happy for this day."

Harry found himself rocking her from side to side. "Hermione, Ron," he said, not looking at them. "This is far more amazing than slaying some stupid Dark wizard. It's certainly worth a Chocolate Frog card any day."

Ron chuckled. "It doesn't feel brave or anything. It just feels right."

Draco slipped his arm around Harry's shoulder and the five of them stayed as they were, silent and still, until Mrs. Granger broke the tableau.

"Come, Harry. Give little Annie to grandmamma."

Harry handed her over and Mrs. Granger took Anne and cuddled her, cooing to her sleeping face. Mr. Granger wandered over and they both looked up at Draco. It was then that Harry realized they'd never met Draco and it made him unaccountably nervous.

"Erm…Mr. and Mrs. Granger, this is my husband, Draco Malfoy."

Draco looked them over with slightly lowered lids. He knew they were Muggles. Of course he did. Didn't he call Hermione a Mudblood in school because of it, because of her parentage?

No doubt they'd heard of him, too, because Mr. Granger kept a firm grip on his wife's shoulders and his mouth drew into a tight line.

Draco stepped forward and offered the man his hand. "Mr. Granger. I'm pleased to meet you. Hermione means a great deal to me."

Mr. Granger looked at Draco's proffered hand but made no move to take it. "I've heard all about you, Mr. Malfoy. All about this Voldemort and Death Eaters. Let me make this plain. I don't want to make a scene here because of where we are and the circumstances, but I strongly disapproved of my daughter's choosing you as a godparent. I know that time erases many things, but I remember well the hurt you inflicted on her through your words and actions. We all admire Harry a great deal and I suppose he has his reasons for being with you. But the rest of us certainly don't have to agree with them."

"Daddy!" gasped Hermione. "Draco is our friend now!"

"I don't pretend to understand about all this wizardry nonsense," he said, glancing at her. "But in our world, we don't forgive so easily. And I wonder if he hasn't somehow hexed the lot of you."

Draco's expression was pinched and taut. He lowered his hand and swept his glance over Ron and Hermione. He made a little nod. "Then if you'll excuse me," he said tightly, "perhaps I'd better wait outside."

Harry watched him go and a frown took over his face. "That wasn't called for, Mr. Granger. You were right in that this wasn't the time or place for this. And for your information, the reasons I have to be with Draco are because I love him and trust him. If that isn't good enough for you then we have nothing more to say to one another." He turned to Ron and Hermione. "Sorry about this. I'm going after him. I'll be back."

Draco wasn't in the corridor. In the waiting room, perhaps? Harry hurried down the slick floor and poked his head in the room still full of Weasleys. But no Draco. "Did you see Draco go by?" he asked them.

George nodded. "He went that way," and he thumbed to the right. "Rather quickly. We called out to him but he didn't hear. Everything okay?"

"Just peachy." He hurried down the corridor toward the lift and found Draco there in the little alcove waiting for the lift to arrive. "Why'd you run off like that?"

Draco didn't look at him. He stared at the glowing numbers indicating which floor the lift had stopped. "Seemed the thing to do."

"You know, you're going to have to get over this running away stuff. Things like this are going to happen all the time. True, I didn't expect it today myself, but you've got to stand up to it."

"I have stood up to it. I hosted that damned Parent's Day, you will recall. And every time I try to 'stand up to it' I am slapped in the face. So if you don't mind-" And he jabbed the button again. "I just didn't feel like doing it today!"

"It's just Fleur and the Grangers, people we hardly see anyway."

"It's not just Fleur and the Grangers! It's everybody! I still get poison pens, you know, except now it's all about 'how could you do that to the Great Harry Potter?' Or 'you have no business being with decent wizards like Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.'"

"I…didn't know you were still getting those."

"Yeah, well. Wake up, Mr. Potter. There's still a nasty world out there that no amount of hiding at Hogwarts can dispel."

"Hey!" He grabbed Draco's shoulder and spun him. "I'm not hiding and I resent your saying so. I know we'll always come across those people with problems either about you or us being gay or whatever, and I'm willing to face it head on. But a little help from you wouldn't hurt."

"What good would it do? If I haven't changed their minds by now then it isn't likely they will ever change."

The lift arrived and the gate whooshed open. The passengers looked at them expectantly and then when they recognized Harry they perked up with much more interest. Harry waved them off. "Next one," he said.

"No," said Draco, sloping toward the lift. "This one."

"No. Let it go."

"Hands off, Potter! I don't have anything to say."

Harry snapped his hand forcefully toward the lift. With sparks and a bang the lift slammed shut and zoomed on its way. They heard the vague screams of the people in the lift as it disappeared to another floor at an extreme speed.

"Oh that's nice!" said Draco sulkily. He clamped his arms over his chest.

"For Merlin's sake, Malfoy. It's our sodding anniversary, we just saw our new goddaughter, and you sound like you want to chuck it all. How do you suppose that makes me feel?"

Draco's stiff posture slowly unwound and he flicked his grey eyes toward Harry. There was a sudden wash of guilt in them. "I…I don't want to hurt you-"

"And yet you do. Can't you stop thinking about yourself for once?"

"But…it is you I'm thinking about," he said in a small voice. "You don't…deserve this."

"Again with that?" He approached Draco, took his face in his hands. "My God, Malfoy. We just had our one year wedding anniversary. One year. One year of wedded bliss. Of complete and unimaginable love. Get this through your thick skull: I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHAT OTHERS THINK. Got it? I love you. No matter what you've done, no matter the things you said or thought. I. LOVE. YOU! Nothing is ever going to change that. I can't believe I'm always trying to convince you of this."

"There will always be trouble because I'm around…"

"Pardon, but did you not listen just then? I said I don't give a flying troll what anyone thinks of you. In fact, the only one that matters what they think of you is-wait for it-ME!"

"But Harry-"

Stupid, stubborn Slytherin. He decided talking was useless. Actions were better. He slammed his lips onto Draco's before the blond could say another word. He could feel Draco protesting under his lips but it wasn't long until those protests became more feeble and he slowly succumbed to Harry's efforts. The kiss went on a long time. Harry wound his arms around Draco's neck and pulled him close. Draco's arms gently rose to Harry's back, encircled him, and squeezed. Finally, Harry gradually pulled away finishing with one last peck on the lips. He held Draco's gaze with his own. "Are we all right here?"

Draco lowered his eyes and stared at the floor. "Okay. I just get a little flustered when-"

"A little?"

He frowned. "Okay, a LOT! All right?" He pushed Harry back. He was sullen again but Harry could tell the worst had passed. "So maybe I've been a little sheltered at Hogwarts, too. Everyone there seems to like me…except for those letters."

"Why do you read them? Just chuck them."

"I have to read them."

"Why?"

"Same reason I keep the Dark Mark. Mustn't forget."

Harry shook his head. Definitely a martyr complex. "All right. Have it your way. But just don't pull me into your angst party. Especially on a day like today."

"He started it!"

"Oh very mature, Malfoy."

"Well he did." His lower lip jutted forward in a pout. Harry wanted to suck on it but thought better of it.

"Yes, and I'm sure Hermione is giving him what for. Like I did before I went after you."

Draco snapped up his head, his blond fringe flipping upward. "You did?"

"'Course I did. I couldn't let anyone get away with that. Not to my husband."

Finally, Draco smiled. "Thanks."

Harry slipped his arm around his shoulders. "Think nothing of it. Shall we go back?"

Draco acquiesced and Harry held him tightly, hoping by the force of his will that Draco could suddenly feel better about himself. But as they finally separated and walked down the long corridor again, Harry's forehead began to ache with stabbing pain. He did nothing but wince because he didn't want Draco to be alarmed, but he knew now that as soon as they returned to Malfoy Manor, he'd have to sneak off and seek out Dumbledore.

* * *

Harry and Draco finally flooed back to Malfoy Manor and Harry didn't realize how exhausted he was. They opted for dining on the terrace and as soon as Harry mentioned how hungry he was, the food appeared on the table outside. He sent a silent thanks to Dobby, and beckoned to Draco to join him. He opened the wine and poured Sauvignon Blanc into each of their glasses. "Here," said Harry, handing Draco a glass. "I think we could use this."

Draco accepted it with thanks and took a swallow. He walked to the railing, leaned against it and looked out. "Come here, Harry."

Harry complied and Draco slipped his arm around him. "Do you know what I think of now when I look at this view?"

Harry shrugged. "Your childhood?"

"No. I think how much I absolutely adore you for giving it back to me."

Harry blushed but tried to hide it by bringing the glass to his lips. He swallowed the mellow wine. "It's a nice view."

"It's more than a nice view, you git. It represents our love. That's what it means to me, anyway."

Harry smiled and leaned his head on Draco's shoulder. "That's a nice sentiment. The view relaxes me."

"So. Malfoy Manor not all big and bad anymore?"

"No. I guess not. I guess I'm even beginning to think of it as home." He squinched up his face at the thought.

Draco kissed Harry's temple and released him. "You know, we never got to celebrate our anniversary."

"Sort of got away from us with Hermione and the baby and all." He studied Draco in the pink light of the sunset and continued his scrutiny. Apparently, it went on so long that Draco angled his head at him and placed his free hand at his hip. "Potter, just what are you staring at?"

"You. You looked really good holding a baby." Harry knew he wore a goofy expression, but he just couldn't help it. Something about all the emotions of the last few hours were working on him in odd ways.

Draco looked askance. "Harry," he said, a note of warning in that voice. "I thought this discussion was years away."

"Well. I thought so, too."

"Good God. You are a sentimental twit, you know that? Let's just enjoy Hermione's baby a bit before we start talking about what I think you're talking about."

"I didn't say anything. I only said you looked good holding a baby. You can interpret that anyway you like."

"Oh no, Potter. You aren't pulling that on me. We already discussed this on our honeymoon-a damnable enough time for that discussion-and we are not doing it now. So tuck your thoughts away for another year or two, all right?"

Harry began to pout but then thought better of it. He moved to his seat and sat instead. "Want dinner?"

"Yes. I'm starved."

He and Draco dined for several hours, talking, drinking, and just enjoying each other's company. Draco seemed to have sloughed off his earlier sullenness about Mr. Granger's sentiments and all was right with them again.

"I think we need to call this our official anniversary," said Harry, stepping away from the table. "We didn't get our chance to celebrate it properly, now did we?"

Draco's eyes followed Harry until he stood right at the Slytherin's chair. Draco rose and smoothly slid into Harry's arms. He gazed at Harry's face for a moment with slitted eyes before he leaned in and kissed him. Harry opened his mouth and sucked in the soft flesh of Draco's tongue, lips mashed against his lover's. A flush of arousal washed through Harry and he was instantly hard. He moved his hips up against Draco's and found the hard outline of his husband's erection pressed against his thigh. Without stopping their kiss, Harry started to peel off their clothing, stopping only to remove their trousers and pants.

Harry took the initiative and steered a naked Draco to the bed, kissing him all the while. They pulled away from each other only long enough for Draco to mouth a gasping, "God! I love kissing you," before he planted his lips firmly to Harry's again. They fell on the bed and lay side by side, just kissing, letting lips explore lips, and tongues touch and caress. Harry mouthed Draco's top lip, taking it between his teeth and gently pulling and sucking before he returned to sliding his moist mouth over Draco's swollen lips. Softly, he pulled away from the Slytherin's mouth and trailed down his neck, taking a different path than down the front and instead sweeping down his side and over his hip to kiss his rounded backside. Draco made a mewling noise that made Harry smile. He lifted Draco's leg and merely gazed for a moment at the delectable sight of reddened bollocks and cock and at the pink puckered flesh of Draco's anus. Harry threw that leg over him and dipped down toward his prize and spread Draco's arse cheeks. He placed the pad of his tongue at the smooth base of his entrance and drew it slowly up over that flesh and Draco stifled a moan, trying to keep his hips from bucking into Harry's face. Harry licked it again and again and pointed his tongue into the compressed pucker and poked the tip in, dabbing at it until Draco was panting almost out of control.

"Oh Harry! Shag me, please! I want to feel you inside me. Do it hard!"

Harry kissed the twitching flesh, couldn't resist a final lick, and drew back. He spelled lube in Draco and on his own cock with a non-verbal. He lifted Draco's leg up over his shoulder and pressed the blunt head of his prick in place. "You want it hard, love. I'll give it to you hard." And he thrust in all the way the first go. Draco made a choking noise but Harry recognized it for what it was: Draco was aroused beyond bearing. The Slytherin's cock was red and rock hard and bobbed up and down as Harry slammed into him relentlessly. Draco raised his leg over Harry's shoulder even higher, giving Harry complete access to him, surrendering, and Harry pressed his body into the underside of Draco's thigh, his hips slamming into Draco's bollocks. He reached down and grasped his lover's erection and fisted it in rhythm.

"Harry! Oh Merlin, Harry! You fill me up so much!"

Harry pounded into him in earnest and had no breath left for words. He pulled on Draco's flesh and felt Draco's body tense, felt his muscles contract, and he came explosively over Harry's hand, breath coming out in gurgles. Harry thrust three more times before he pumped his seed deep into Draco, throwing his head back in the moment of ecstasy. His pulse pounded, his breath panted, and he was suddenly consumed by the warming afterglow. He pulled out of Draco and lay down behind him, pulling him in a tight embrace and rubbing his nose to the nap of his neck. "I love you," he gasped, and Draco drew Harry's arm tighter around him in reply. They slept that way, sticky and warm, and safe.

But in the wee hours of the morning, Harry slid out of bed, hobbled to the bathroom to clean up, and flooed to Hogwarts.

* * *

The dim corridors of Hogwarts were forlorn and cold when no one was there. Summer may have brightened the grounds but inside the castle, the absence of laughing children and bustling teachers made for a lonely place.

Harry stood before the gargoyle statue and realized he didn't know the new password. He tried the old one but nothing happened. He thought for a moment and then decided to Apparate on the griffin stair, hoping there weren't too many unusual wards when bypassing the gargoyle. He closed his eyes, concentrated, and spun.

POP!

He slammed unceremoniously on the edge of a step, teetered, and nearly fell before he caught himself. He ran his hands over his body. Good. All limbs seemed to be accounted for. Though now that he noticed, when the gargoyle was still in place the stairs didn't move. He climbed and stopped before the Headmaster's door. Taking a breath, he raised his hand but stopped. It only then occurred to him that the Headmaster may not be up this early. He stood a moment wondering what to do when a voice answered on the other side, "Come."

Harry opened the door and slowly peered in.

"Ah, Harry! I should have known it was you. You're the only one who could have gotten past the wards."

"Yeah, sorry. Didn't know the password."

"Or that you could have sent me a Patronus?"

Harry froze. Oops. Stupid. He smiled weakly. "Sorry."

"No matter. I wonder what you are doing here during your summer holiday. And so early in the morning."

"I'm sorry about the hour. I just wasn't thinking." Dumbledore seemed to be in a dressing gown, but it was difficult to tell the difference between a dressing gown and one of his ankle-length robes. "Well first, good news. Hermione had her baby."

"Oh splendid! Boy or girl?"

"Girl. Anne Molly Weasely."

"Excellent news. Mother and child are well, I trust?"

"Oh yeah. And Ron's doing all right, too. More than all right. He looks like he was made for it. Surprising, really."

"Not at all. Ronald Weasley has always shouldered more responsibility than you might imagine. He did a great deal of looking after you when you both attended Hogwarts as I recall. And was perhaps a bit overprotective of Miss Ginny Weasley."

Harry thought about it and reasoned that the Headmaster was right. Ron was the family type. And Harry knew he was dependable. After all, Harry had depended on him for his life.

"But that is not all the news you wish to impart, am I correct? You said 'first the good news'. That would seem to imply bad news on the horizon."

Harry shuffled his feet and finally sat where the headmaster directed. "Well, maybe it's nothing."

"But you wouldn't be here if it were, no?"

Harry clenched his hands together. If only his head would hurt when he was trying to tell Dumbledore about it then he could properly show him, maybe even be Legilimized, but not once in his whole life had that ever happened. "Well… when we were at the hospital when I wasn't thinking about anything in particular…my…my head…hurt."

Dumbledore stared perplexedly at Harry over his half-moon spectacles. "Your head?"

"Well…not exactly my head. I mean…where my scar used to be. It hurt. A lot. Like…the old days."

He hoped Dumbledore would simply wave his hand, chuckle, and say "oh don't worry about a thing, dear boy." But Dumbledore did none of that. His normally jovial eyes took on a hardness and the stare became piercing. He leaned forward over his desk. "Has this ever happened before?"

"No, Albus. I can't remember it ever happening. Only when Voldemort was alive. But as you see," he pushed the hair up away from his forehead. "The scar is gone."

Dumbledore shot to his feet. His eyes were wider now. "Harry," he said, his voice strange and strained. He moved swiftly around the desk and grasped Harry's arm. Harry looked down at his firm grip and didn't even notice when the Headmaster pulled him across the floor and stood him before a small mirror whose silver was wearing away. "Look, Harry."

Raising his eyes to the imperfect glass, Harry gasped. His heart lurched. Where before there had been smooth skin, there, again on his forehead, was an angry red lightning bolt scar.


On to Chapter Two
"The Rising"

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