As the healer figured it, the babies would arrive sometime in July. Harry was overjoyed and when he accepted an invitation from Ron and Hermione for dinner that night he didn't know if he'd be able to fully contain himself.

"We can tell them, right? I mean, Hermione already knows."

"Gods, Potter. Control yourself. Yes, I don't see why not."

Harry jumped up and down for a bit before he realized that a Hogwarts professor really shouldn't act that way. He kissed Draco on the cheek and then pulled the jumper on over his head. He smoothed down his hair absently. (No point to it, really. He knew it wouldn't make any difference.)

Draco shook his head. "This return to infantilism isn't really very appealing, you do realize."

"Sorry," said Harry with a blush. "I'm just excited."

"Yeah, I got that."

"Aren't you excited? You've been really quiet about all this. Your fondest wish. A little Malfoy on the way. And a little Potter."

"Yeah. Cool."

He grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him back. "Hey. Talk to me. What's going on in that head of yours?"

Draco sighed but wouldn't look at Harry. "I'm…worried, all right? It's a lot of responsibility and I don't know if…if I can…you know. Measure up."

"Of course you will."

"I don't know, Harry. I don't want to raise a little evil git like I was."

"You won't. You weren't. Well…you changed. You wouldn't raise a child like that. Not now."

"No grandparents. I had grandparents, too, Harry. They won't have any of that."

"I didn't either. Though…" A distant memory grazed his mind. "I do remember seeing them once. In a mirror." Draco looked at Harry curiously. But Harry shook his head. "Too hard to explain. And they can at least meet your parents, now can't they? At home."

Draco's eyes fixed on Harry's intently. "The manor. You know that's the first time you've ever called it 'home'."

"Is it? It's home now. With you. And soon two more. That's what I call a home."

Draco walked over to Harry and draped his arms over Harry's shoulders. "You are one remarkable wizard, Harry Potter. Why I was such a git to you in school I will never know."

"Couldn't have to do with one Lucius Malfoy, now could it?"

Draco sighed. "Yeah. A lot to do with it. Plus my own bruised ego."

"But that's over. Are you ready? Shall we go?"

He nodded and they both stepped into the hearth together and whooshed to the Weasley's in a flourish of green flames.

There were hugs all around, and after Harry told them the news about the twins the hugs went on a second round.

Draco shrugged Hermione off of him. "Enough! Too much of a good thing, you know. Where's that drink you promised, Weasley?" he said to Ron.

"So." Ron smiled broadly at Draco and handed him a drink. "You're going to be a Daddy. Can't wait to see that."

"What? Just because I'm a poufter doesn't mean I can't grease the wheel."

Hermione made a disgusted sound.

"And Harry can too, apparently."

"I wasn't intending to 'grease any wheels'," he said into his drink, smiling at Hermione's continued snorting.

"Well done," said Ron, slapping him on the back. "And so the Potter line continues."

Harry shrugged, unaccountably pleased with himself. "I guess so."

"What are you hoping for, Draco?" asked Ron. "Boy or girl?"

"Yes, one of those."

"Come on. You can say."

"Actually, no I can't. It's bad luck."

Harry drew the drink away from his lips. "Bad luck? You don't believe in luck do you?"

"Harry, I am surprised at you. Was it not you who won Felix Felicis from Slughorn's potion class?"

"Oh yeah. I guess I did. It did bring good luck. Twice."

"So there you have it. In the Malfoy tradition, it is bad luck to discuss the unborn child. So can we get on to another topic of conversation?"

Quiet descended and they all drank their drinks in strained silence.

"So Harry," said Ron after a long pause. "What are you hoping for?"

"I'd like a boy. Although, sometimes I think a little girl would be nice-"

"Potter. Did you not hear me?"

"I heard you, Draco. How could I avoid it? But in case you haven't noticed, I'm not a Malfoy. Therefore, it is not bad luck. So. As I was saying, if it were a boy, then maybe, just maybe someday there might be a Weasley/Potter marriage. What do you think of that?"

"Not on your life!" said Draco, sputtering his drink.

Everyone looked at him.

"Erm…that is to say-"

"No, mate," said Ron in a strained voice. "I think you said it all."

"I-" He looked at Harry for help but Harry glared at him.

"Sorry, Draco. You're on your own with this one."

"It's just…you know. Purebloodlines and all…"

"But I'm not a Pureblood, remember?" said Harry. "And neither is little Annie. We're both Halfbloods and so is my child. So. What's the big deal?"

Hermione and Ron glared at Draco and he pulled his collar away from his flushed neck. "Okay, okay. Just an inborn reaction. Sorry. I mean, I apologize. Didn't mean to offend any of you. You know I love Annie. Damn! I'm such rubbish at this!"

Harry put his arm around his shoulders. "Okay. I think you've suffered enough. Are we all friends again?"

Ron looked at his wife and she considered before nodding her head. Draco moved forward first to take her in his arms. Harry had never seen him do that before. He must really be sorry, he mused.

Everyone did seem to be friends again and they settled down to eat Hermione's dinner. And everything was going just fine until Harry's scar suddenly burst with unexpected malevolence. He slapped his hand to his forehead and nearly fell out of his chair. Everyone was on their feet at once.

Draco had grabbed Harry and cradled him in his arms. Harry vaguely heard him making calming tones with his voice, though he could not distinguish the words between the throbbing spasms. He was lifted and he reckoned he was lying on the sofa. A pillow was put under his head and a firewhiskey thrust under his nose. He drank a sip and felt the hot liquid slide down his throat. Squinting, he opened his eyes and looked up at everyone staring worriedly down at him. He smiled sheepishly. "Oh…er…I'm fine now."

Draco's stern expression spoke of the repressed power he was keeping at bay. His face was red with the effort.

But Ron and Hermione looked very concerned and as soon as Harry felt less nauseated, he sat up and handed Draco back the firewhiskey. "Look, I'm fine. It was just a…a…" But what was he to tell them? Just a bit of evil hitting me is all. Nothing to fret over. Weren't they the very ones he should tell? They certainly knew all of his other secrets. Who better than they?

He sighed deeply. "Ron. Hermione. Perhaps you'd best sit down."

They edged to their own chairs and gingerly sat, keeping their eyes glued to Harry. For once, neither of them said a word.

"Okay. Well. I guess…" He drew back his fringe and whispered, "Finite." The concealing charm vanished revealing the reddened scar. Hermione gasped and threw her hand over her mouth. Ron was a little more vocal with a, "What the bloody hell-!"

"It's not Voldemort," he said quickly and the relief on their faces was immediate. "But…it might as well be."

"Harry," Hermione said in a small voice. "What happened?"

"Well, Dumbledore explained it like this. Because of Voldemort's curse on me when I was a baby, I've somehow become this Dark Wizard barometer. I can sense when Dark Wizards are up to no good. I can sort of tell who and where they are."

"And that's why your scar is back?" she asked.

"Yeah. It's working through the forces of the universe or some such rubbish. Damned if I really understand it, but I'm supposed to help the Aurors root out evil. And there is this new Dark Witch who's been brewing trouble and she's now in England."

Draco slid forward on his chair. "You know that?"

"Yeah. Just now. In fact..." He stood. "I gotta go."

"Wait." Draco stood beside him. "I…I…"

"We already discussed this, Draco. You know I can't stand idly by while my scar hurts, telling me bad things are happening. I've got to go."

"You're off to fight her?"

"No. I'm going to go to the Auror's office and tell them what I know and maybe I won't have to go anywhere else. But I have to go now. Okay?"

"Shall I…shall I go with you?"

He laid a hand on Draco's shoulder and smiled. "No. Why don't you stay here with Ron and Hermione? I'll probably be right back."

Draco sneered and sat heavily. "No you won't. You'll probably get yourself killed."

"Will you stop that! We've discussed this-"

"No, you told me. I don't have a choice, remember?"

"You have a choice to come with me or not. But you don't have the option to complain to me. Now I've got to go." He leaned down and kissed Draco before his husband could pull sullenly away. He turned to the Weasleys. "Take care of him till I get back." And with their worried looks burned into his mind, he Apparated into the Ministry's atrium.

* * *

Harry dropped the vision threads into the Pensieve while the Aurors clustered around it. Since Tonks was already aware of this new development, it was easier when Harry had arrived to the Aurors office. She happened to be on duty and swore the others to secrecy about what was to be revealed to them: that Harry Potter was a Dark Wizard finder and could put a stop to any new Voldemort wannabes before things got out of hand. It wasn't really believed at first, but the reality of Harry's scar and Harry Potter actually talking to them about it made it all too real.

One by one, each Auror bent their heads into the Pensieve and tumbled in. Harry didn't go. He already knew what they would see: A dark street in Muggle Sussex where this witch was striding with her cohorts. She had severe features and jet black hair. Her small eyes were also dark and she used them like electric torches to ferret out her prey; witches with a strong sensitivity to her presence. Apparently, Harry wasn't the only one with this ability, but he was the only one who understood it. She was older, in her forties, and had bided her time, waiting for Voldemort's defeat.

She wasn't aware of Harry's eavesdropping at all.

When the Aurors all had a good look at her and at her power-which was great-they sprang out of the Pensieve and stood mutely around the stone bowl. Tonks led them to a conference room and it wasn't until the doors were sealed and warded that she began to speak.

"So. You all see how it is. We've got to apprehend her if possible. But if deadly force is necessary then that's what needs to be done. Are there any questions?"

No one spoke for a moment until a young witch in the back leaned forward. "Why have we never heard of this witch before?"

"I can answer that," said Harry, surprised that he suddenly could. Memories flooded his mind from another place and he simply opened his mouth, letting his words describe what was playing in his brain. "She lived in Finland and has kept a very low profile. But she's killed. Several times. Mostly to keep her secret. She's been waiting to see what happened with Voldemort-" and the people around the table cringed a bit at mention of the Name. "But now she's seeking out Death Eaters to join her but I can't tell what she's up to besides…you know. The usual taking over the Wizarding world stuff." He shrugged while they looked back at him aghast.

"And you see all this, sir?"

He smiled at the young witch. "It's Harry. Um…yeah. Sort of. It's hard to explain. It comes to me more like a memory. As if I'd already experienced it."

"All right, then," said Tonks, rubbing her hands together. "Thank you, Harry. I think we can take it from here."

"Oh. All right. Well…good luck. Let me know what happens, okay?"

"Of course, Harry. You'll be the first to know."

Harry shook her hand but she pulled him into a hug instead. He waved good-bye to the others and walked to the atrium. He checked his watch. It was too late to return to the Weasleys. He reckoned Draco had returned to Hogwarts and much to the chagrin of the receptionist, he Apparated away from the Ministry and into his study at school. He listened for signs of Draco before he entered their private rooms. Sounded like the hearth was alight. So Draco had waited up for him. He girded his courage and said the password that opened the portrait hole. Draco shot out of the Slytherin wing chair as soon as he entered.

"Harry! Thank Merlin!" He rushed him and before Harry could say anything, Draco had enclosed him in a breath-stopping hug. His face crushed against Harry's neck and Harry felt him breathing in short rasps. "Thank Merlin," he whispered again.

Harry's arms came up, and though he couldn't breathe well, it seemed more important to reassure Draco with his hands. He caressed his husband with long strokes down his back, and they stood that way a long time until Harry felt a bit faint.

"Love, I can't breathe."

Draco immediately pulled back. "Oh. Sorry." He leaned in and hurriedly kissed him and then stood back to look Harry in the face.

"I told you I wouldn't be gone long."

"Did you face her?"

"Her. Her who?"

"You know. That daft witch who is going to make my life a living hell over the next few months."

Harry laughed. "Oh, her. I told you I went to the Ministry. And that was all. Honestly, Draco. Don't you believe me when I tell you something?"

"I…I…" Draco's face more than made up for any pride on Harry's part. He looked so miserable and pathetic.

Harry moved forward and took Draco's face in his hands. Draco had changed so much over the years since Harry had met up with him again after Voldemort that he forgot all the little ways that Draco hadn't changed at all. He still didn't fancy facing up to scary things. He'd rather turn tail and run, in fact, but Harry could see the worry etching faint lines over his brows. And Draco did love him. If there was anything the Slytherin was fixated on, it was his love of Harry. "I didn't mean to worry you but I told you I had to go. When you take up with Harry Potter you get the whole package, I'm afraid. It's a 'saving thing', or so I've been told."

"Yes, I know. I had a long talk with Hermione and Ron about that after you left. They clued me in on a few things."

Now Harry was silent and he released him. He wouldn't have minded being a fly on the wall for that conversation. "I see. Find out anything interesting?"

"Quite a lot, actually. I heard all about this 'saving thing' and how reckless you can be, not listening to the advice of others. The more I heard the more pissed off I became."

"No doubt," Harry muttered.

Draco folded his arms over his chest. He fairly buzzed with irritation. "So. Are you going to tell me how it went?"

Harry sighed deeply and looked around the darkened room. Draco hadn't even lit the candles. The only light from the room was the hearth and the hard shining lights of the stars winking in from the window. Draco had probably sat alone in the dark for hours, brooding.

"You know, I don't think I will. Good night." With that, he turned on his heel and headed for his side of the bed.

"What? Y-you get right back here, Potter, and tell me!"

Harry turned to him briefly and said, "Nope." Slowly he undid the buttons on his shirt and pulled it off. He could feel Draco's anger. His magic fizzled about him like an electrical storm.

Draco marched up to him and stood less than a foot from his back. "GODAMMIT, Potter!"

Harry turned to him again and with a mild expression offered, "It's no good swearing at me. If you can't give me the courtesy to believe me when I tell you something then I don't see why I owe you any explanations. And if you don't step back, I'll hex you. And block whatever it is you might plan. You know I can do it."

Draco hesitated. But soon Harry could feel him withdraw and finally move to his side of the bed. The springs creaked when he sat on the edge silently. Harry continued undressing and retreated to the bathroom to complete his toilet for the night. When he returned, Draco was still sitting on the edge of the bed. Harry slipped out of his dressing gown, pulled up the covers, and slid in. He fluffed his pillows, set them up against the head board, and settled a look on Draco.

"Well?"

Very quietly, Draco said in a soft voice, "I'm sorry, Harry. I just love you so much. I don't want anything to happen to you. The whole idea of this just gives me the chills. It's Voldemort all over again."

Harry relented and scooted to Draco's side, taking his shoulders in hand. "It's not Voldemort all over again. I can handle it. And if I can't, I will ask for help. I promise."

"Are you angry with me?"

"No. How can I be angry with you?"

Draco turned. His eyes were wide and glossy, like melting ice. "I don't want anything to happen to you," he whispered.

"Me neither," he said seriously. He took Draco's shoulders and turned him, dragging him forward. This time he kissed Draco and their lips reached hungrily for each other. There was none of the softness of their earlier lovemaking. This was quick and desperate. Draco's clothes were ripped free of him and lay scattered on the duvet and the floor. Limbs entwined and muscles stretched anxiously while mouths mauled the other, racing down necks and collarbones. Flesh was nipped and suckled, leaving red marks and moist trails. Two cocks jousted, rubbing the length of the other and leaving long strings of pre-cum. They vied for the most ruthless assault, until Harry pushed Draco beneath him, rolled him over, and took his lover viciously. Draco cried out his pleasure, even as Harry knew it burned him to be taken with so little lubrication. But his lover seemed to need the pain, the raw sensation that Harry was alive and taking charge as he had always done. And Harry needed it too, not only to reassure Draco, but himself, that his strength was still at its peak and a palpable force; strong enough to do what needed the doing, even if right now that meant fucking Draco into the mattress.

Draco pushed his arse upward, forcing Harry's prick deeper. Harry didn't let up the pounding. He threw his head back in pleasure as Draco's flesh engulfed his. Tight. After all they'd done the man was still tight. Harry wondered vaguely if Draco used a charm, but in another flash it didn't matter. Draco was hot and tight and beautiful. And he loved shagging him and he believed that Draco, if given the choice, would remain bottom to Harry's top for the rest of their lives together.

Draco didn't say anything as Harry rammed into him. Usually he was quite vocal during lovemaking, but this time, when Harry caught glimpses of his face, it looked like he was putting all his concentration into it. His eyes were shut tight, and his teeth were biting into his reddened lips. He was giving back as good as he was getting, jabbing his arse upward into Harry's pelvis. Harry's balls were slapping Draco's and the feel of that alone-of both velvet sacs sliding and spanking one another-brought Harry's orgasm churning upward. He emptied himself into his lover's damp cavern, the waves of pleasure forcing his hips into several last thrusts. Draco came with an elongated gasp and as far as Harry could tell, without touching himself.

Harry lay atop Draco for several moments. When he moved to slide off, Draco's hand came back and held Harry's arse in place. "Don't. Don't move yet. I like feeling you on top of me."

"Am I too heavy?"

"No. No."

Harry pressed his face to the nape of his lover's neck, and trailed his lips up into sweaty blond hair. "I love you," he whispered. "Only you."

Draco made an answering groan, and wiggled his hips a bit. Harry chuckled and finally slid off to lie next to him. Draco turned his head to gaze at him.

"I trust you, Harry. Whatever you decide is all right. I'll go along and I won't make a fuss. I promise."

It was a lovely gesture, and even though Harry didn't know if he could believe it, he offered Draco a wide grin anyway. "Thank you. And I promise to keep you as informed as I can. Okay?"

Draco nodded. His hair was splayed all over the pillow like liquid moonlight. Harry reached out a hand to stroke some of it and Draco closed his eyes.

But that night, after falling asleep in Draco's arms, Harry awoke screaming, his scar burning like molten lead.

Annikki* the witch killed three Aurors and in the vision/dream she suddenly turned her beetle black eyes on Harry and said, "And now, Harry Potter, I come for you!"


*A/N: Annikki means "bitter" in Finnish, or so my sources say.


On to Chapter Eight
"Waking Dream"

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"The Birds and the Bees"

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