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Chapter 10 - 10

55Chapter 10: ADAIG 4: Termination

As Dark as It Gets, part four: Termination

Piper had tears in her eyes. She did not want to believe what her little brother had just said. Violently shaking her head in denial, she advanced on Draco, hoping that she looked really intimidating towering over him like that. "You can't do that!" she said emotionally. "You're going to kill Tom!"

Draco boldly met her halfway. "Yeah, and that's exactly what I'm intending to do! You heard me! I don't want no bloody baby now—I just want to have some bloody time alone with Harry, for fuck's sake! We've just got back together after a major crisis—I don't want some kind of third party to step in and ruin that, not even if that third party happens to be my own son!"

Piper took a step back as if he had just slapped her in the face. "I don't believe you, Draco. You can't just kill an innocent child like that! It's wrong!"

"Wrong? Wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong! My sister testing all sorts of new spells and potions on me, that's what's wrong! And if that 'innocent child' happens to be Tom, I will be bloody glad to kill it."

"You don't mean that!"

"I sure as fuck do!"

She demonstratively turned her back on Draco. Shaking her head anew, she said, "Fine. But don't try to convince yourself that you'll be able to do it, Draco. You're too emotionally attached to that baby growing inside you. You won't be able to do it. You will feel too strongly about him."

Draco snorted. "All I feel for that snotty brat is hatred!"

She swirled around to face him again. "You shut up! I won't tolerate you badmouthing my nephew like that! You haven't seen the big picture yet, so I would advise you to put a sock in it!" she hissed threateningly.

"Oh, yeah? Whose side are you on, anyway? He's a freakin' murderer! He killed someone in cold blood! And he's chased by bloody Forgettes from the future! What does that tell you, Piper? Now, if that isn't a failure as a parent I don't know what is, and I'm not prepared to make a mistake that I already know of! I prefer to be oblivious of the mistakes I make, and I intend to keep it that way. Now you help me find some sort of antidote for this!"

"No, I won't! You might find it hard to believe, but I happen to love my nephew! I won't help you kill him! I won't!"

Now Draco was really starting to get raging furious; his face swelled up and became blood red. He pointed his finger at her threateningly. "Watch your mouth, young lady!"

Piper could not help but grin self-righteously at him. "Hear, hear; you already sound like an overprotective Mum, Drakie-poops. Tuning in to that legendary maternal instinct, are you?"

Draco was about to burst with wrath. "You—! Who are you? I thought I knew you, but I was obviously wrong! Who the Hell are you?"

"I'm a Malfoy! I do what Malfoys have done for over three centuries—I deceive! And so do you, Draco; you're deceiving yourself. Right now you're telling yourself that you don't want this, but I know you do because I can see it in your eyes. You've wanted this ever since you fell in love with Harry. I only helped you get there. I'm sorry that I had to lie to you, but what did you expect? I was raised by Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, too, and even though I never admitted it to myself or anyone else, they had great influence on me. So, there you have it. I'm a Malfoy—go figure."

And with those words, she left them, intending never to come back.

When Harry finally succeeded to make Draco calm down, his mind inevitably wandered off into the depths of their new situation. So, they were expecting a child. Was that really what he wanted? Did he even want to become a father? Draco seemed to be very set on terminating his pregnancy as soon as possible, so Harry should not even be thinking about what he wanted; he had no right to. It was Draco's decision to make, and like he said; they should not bring such a vicious creature into the world. Yet … he was their son. They had obviously done something wrong somewhere along the line, but it was not too late to change that, was it? They could still shape him into a decent human being, right?

He said nothing of these thoughts to Draco, because he did not want to estrange his lover as Draco had estranged his sister. Exhausted from a long day of painful revelation upon painful revelation, they both went to bed without saying anything to each other. As soon as he had put his head on the pillow, Draco turned his back to Harry and pulled the quilt up to his ears, facing the wall. Harry figured that he was in no mood for talking.

Harry did not get much sleep that night, so he was relieved to hear Draco's steady, calm breathing, an indicator that at least one of them got his much needed beauty rest. When Draco woke up in the morning, he turned around to look at Harry. "Hey," he said, his grey eyes still drowsy with sleep.

Harry smiled faintly at him. "Good morning." He wanted to add a 'baby' to his greeting but thought better of it.

Draco yawned. "It was all a dream, wasn't it?"

Harry frowned. This was not good. This was not good at all. "What was?" he nevertheless asked, deciding to humour the blonde at least for a little while.

Draco laughed bitterly as if everything that had happened was rather silly, really. "Never mind, it can't have been real. Must've been a nightmare. I dreamt that Tom was our son and that Piper told me I was pregnant right after he killed Hermione."

"Do you want me to lie or just be straight with you?"

Draco stopped laughing and stared at him. "Oh, no … it was true, wasn't it? I am pregnant, aren't I?"

Harry bit his lower lip. "Yeah, I'm afraid you are."

The blonde squirmed onto his back and stared up into the ceiling, saying nothing more. Harry was really worried about him, because he did not have any idea what was going on inside Draco's mind at that moment. He wanted to know what he was thinking so he could devise the perfect reassurance strategy. "Are you all right?"

The blonde was quiet for a long time before replying. "Yeah, I guess I am. I'm just a bit … shocked."

"I can totally understand why."

"So, is he still here?"

"Who?"

Draco hit him on the arm. "Shuddup! You know who I mean."

"I dunno—you tell me. You're carrying him, right? Shouldn't you be able to sense if he's here?"

"No, silly fool! I can't do that. It doesn't work that way."

"Tell me how it works then," Harry encouraged, and gently pressed his lips to Draco's. Draco automatically returned the kiss and put his arm around Harry's shoulder. Harry took this as an invitation and moved in closer, pressing their bodies tightly together. But when he prepared to take Draco's boxers off, the blonde withdrew violently. "Hey! Just what do you think you're doing?" he bellowed accusatorily.

Harry blinked in bewilderment. "I'm … taking off your boxers?" he said cautiously.

"Well, don't! Keep your bloody hands off me!"

He started to get up from the bed.

Harry regarded him with concern. "Dracums, what's wrong?"

"Don't Dracums me, I know what you're after!"

Draco angrily put his jeans on.

Harry sat up warily. "What are you talking about? I was just trying to be intimate …"

"Yeah, right! That's what all men say nowadays, but all they want is sex!"

"Draco, what are you talking about?"

"You damned well know what I'm talking about!"

"No, honestly, I don't. Why are you so averse to sleeping with me all of a sudden? You used to be all for it, at all times. What changed?"

"You made me pregnant with your baby, that's what changed! I'm seventeen and I'm pregnant and I don't have any means whatsoever to support my child and all you want from me is sex! Admit it! Admit it, you bastard!" Tears began to stream down Draco's flushed cheeks.

Feeling as if someone had just stabbed him with a blunt object, Harry hurried up to Draco and embraced him. Weeping, the blonde clung to him, and his sobs rang in Harry's ears. He did not know how to react to this, let alone what to say to comfort his lover.

"Oh, my God …" Draco was squeaking pathetically, "I'm seventeen and I'm pregnant. I don't have any future—I will just be stuck at home with this kid I can't support. There will be no Auror training for me, I will never be able to get a job … How am I supposed to support this baby? I'm pathetic."

Harry hushed him. "No, you're not pathetic, Draco, I'm sure you'll be a great mother—er, I mean father. You do have resources—you have your heritage, and that is quite a lot of money. You'll be able to support the baby, you'll see. And you've forgotten about something."

Draco snivelled. "What?"

"You've got me," Harry said, and kissed the crown of his head.

"Thank you, Harry."

"'Thank you?' I love you, Dracums! Did you really think I would leave you because of something this trivial?"

Draco laughed somewhat embarrassedly. "No, not really."

They just stood there for a while, holding each other. It was amazing how much had changed between them since they got back together.

They had never rowed this much before, but neither had they ever been this close.

Harry lovingly stroked the blonde's hair. "So, does this mean that you're keeping the baby?" he asked, careful to use the exact right tone of voice to prevent another outburst from Draco.

"It did sound that way, didn't it?" Draco stated. "Piper was right, wasn't she? I am turning into a mother, aren't I? And to tell you the truth … it's not that I don't want to have your baby, because I do, I just don't want him. I haven't changed my mind about this. I don't want this baby. I can't imagine everything we would have to go through with Tom for a son. I want our life to be quiet and perfect, just like you are perfect."

Harry laughed. "I'm not perfect—you are."

"You're just saying that."

"No, I'm not. In my eyes, you are perfect, just like I'm perfect in your eyes. It's called love."

Draco pulled out of the embrace and began to search for a clean shirt. "Now let's find that antidote or whatever and get this over and done with before I get too 'emotionally attached' to that brat."

Harry was just about to say, "You already are," when Draco left the room and went to the bathroom for a quick shower.

Harry sighed and went down to the kitchen to have breakfast. Passing the archway that led to the parlour, he noticed Tom standing by the French windows. Apparently he had not left yet. Suspecting the worst, Harry walked up to him and ruthlessly forced him to turn around. "What are you still doing here?" he demanded unpleasantly.

Tom had an eerie glint in his green eyes. "I'm not leaving until I've got what I came for," he said solemnly.

"And what exactly is that?"

"What everybody wants. Revenge, father." He turned to the windows anew.

Harry decided to be bold and foolish for once. "There never was any friend, was there?" he dared. "It was you all along. You killed those people—that's why the Forgettes are after you. That's why you fled to the past, to dodge your own punishment."

Tom laughed. "You are so right, father. But not about everything, of course. See, I read all about Voldemort and the Death Eaters when I was little. You didn't like me to, of course, but I did anyway. I was intrigued by the way one man managed to gather so many followers and persuade them to convert to the dark side—how could that even be possible? And as I grew up, I joined the new Lord, all without your knowledge of course. But then one day you saw the Mark on my arm … that's when I knew I had to get rid of the only obstacle I had of becoming a mighty dark wizard myself—"

He turned to face Harry again.

"—and that was you, father. You were the only thing holding me back, the only person who struggled so hard and needlessly to get me back to the 'right' side. I knew I never had to worry about 'ickle Drakie-bums,' because he's still got the Malfoy blood churning in his veins—it's like two different personalities fighting within him. As long as he's with you, the true Malfoy within him will remain repressed, but if I get rid of you he might resurface again, and together we'll be stronger than ever. Together, we can claim the throne before the new Dark Lord steps into view tonight. That's why I chose this particular year, because I figured that if you weren't even there to raise me, you wouldn't be able to hamper Draco at all."

Harry took a dizzy step backward because of the shock that struck him after hearing that devious monologue. It was too much to process at once, and a million, zillion confusing thoughts were swirling around deep down in the depths of his mind, all of them poking at his consciousness, trying to make themselves acknowledged. He did not understand what the urgent voices inside his head were saying, but he knew all too well what they meant; he was as good as dead.

This was his death sentence, and he had been convicted by none other than his own son.

Even though he hated this dark-haired man intensely for what he had put him and Draco through during these three weeks of knowing him, he was torn between loathing and love. Because regardless of what this man had done—the things that Harry had witnessed as well as the things that had merely been implied by a third party—he loved his son, which was utterly absurd since he did not even exist yet. Technically, they had not even met yet. Still, Harry felt as if he had watched his boy grow up to become the man that now stood before him.

The darkness in those green eyes was alarming, and the cold-heartedness in them scared Harry, yet he could not help but notice how much they looked like his own eyes—and they were the eyes of his mother. Tom even had the same messy hair as Harry, the same body structure … and he sure as Hell had Draco's temper, attitude, air of superiority, and way of carrying himself.

Now it seemed so obvious—why had he not noticed that before? He had thought there was something familiar about Tom, but it was incredible that he had not noticed these things right away, because they were so obvious.

He really was their son, and it seemed as if the combination Draco-Malfoy-and-Harry-Potter was a lethal one; Tom was a ticking bomb that could explode any second without the least bit of warning preceding total destruction.

Tom raised his wand and pointed it straight at Harry's heart, as if he knew about the emotional battle that was currently taking place inside his very young father. "Any last words, father?"

Harry thought quickly. The best strategy would probably be to provoke him into indecision and stall him long enough for Draco to get out of the shower and come looking for him—that way he might have a chance to live. If he had had his wand it would have been so much easier.

"If you kill me, it will only make Draco more determined to force a miscarriage, Tom," he said indifferently, showing no emotions at all to feign an air of confidence he did not feel. "He won't have any inhibitions anymore—he'll simply avenge my death by killing you. Maybe even twice," he added in order to threat the life of both baby Tom and grown Tom.

Unfortunately, it had no effect on his son; he simply threw his head back in a very arrogant fashion and laughed. "I'm not worried," he said, amused by Harry's ludicrous belief that everything would turn out all right, "I'm still here, aren't I? Isn't that proof that your dear Draco never terminated his pregnancy as he claims to want to? If you killed me in 2004, how is it that I could live to be 21 and come back to that very year? Huh? What's the matter, pops? No quick remarks?"

Harry indeed had nothing to say to this, because he realised the hopelessness in his situation. And he had to admit that there was truth in what Tom was saying. Hermione had many a time given him lectures about time travelling and suchlike, and she had always been very determined to make him understand that things that had already happened could not be reversed.

Since Tom stood before him now, a grown man, that meant Draco would ultimately decide to keep him. And it already seemed to be going in that direction, what with Draco's breakdown that morning …

With a self-righteous smirk on his baby-smooth face, Tom said, "I do have a future, father, it has been proven so, but I am sorry I can't say the same for you."

Just as Tom was about to utter the curse, something utterly strange happened. A young man, probably of an age with Harry, with silver blonde hair and smart, expensive-looking clothes appeared out of nowhere and threw himself at Tom, shouting: "Tom, no!"

Tom was so stunned by the attack that he fell to the floor, getting entangled with the stranger and knocked out as his head hit the edge of a nearby coffee table. Harry stared at them in utter disbelief and shock. He took a step towards them. "You saved my life," he said in astonishment, "thank you. But who are you?"

The blonde stranger lifted his head to look at Harry, and Harry had the peculiar feeling that it would be Draco's face looking up at him, that his lover had somehow learnt of Tom's intentions and Apparated down there to prevent it all. Curiously enough, he was disappointed when he saw that that was not the case. But the features of the stranger's face did visually resemble Draco, only his eyes were startlingly green, not grey. Could this be …?

No, it was not possible …

Was it?

"Glad to be of your assistance," the boy said with a low, melodic voice.

Tom groaned and started to pull himself up from the floor. Harry made a wry face and snorted. "Why couldn't you just have been knocked out for good? It would've saved us all the trouble of dealing with your foetus."

Too late, he realised that Tom was reaching for his wand, which had flown out of his hand when the stranger attacked him. The blonde lad, however, saw it and hurried to reach it before Tom. Their fingers touched the wand simultaneously, but it was the stranger who grasped it and ultimately directed it at Tom. He opened his mouth to say something, but a shriek from the doorway interrupted him.

"No!"

The stranger went flying through the air and landed some five feet away from them. He did not get up again.

Harry turned in fright to find Draco standing in the archway, his face flushed with anger and something else that he could not quite identify. "What are you doing?" he exclaimed, and went over to his lover.

Draco gave him a murderous look and then pointed at the blonde boy. "He tried to hurt my baby!"

Harry was completely taken aback upon hearing those words coming out of Draco's mouth. It seemed as if the blonde indeed had made his decision already—and it was not the one he had been hoping for himself. "But Tom tried to kill me, and that boy over there saved me! He popped in out of nowhere and tackled Tom, and what you saw was Tom trying to reach his wand to finish what he started!" he shouted, beside himself with angry astonishment and disbelief.

Draco's grey eyes narrowed. "What?" He turned to look at Tom, who was still on the floor and obviously in some pain. "You tried to kill my Harry, you ungrateful bastard child?! Okay, that's it, that does it! That was the last straw, and I don't care what happens to me anymore! I'll get myself drunk and throw myself off a cliff or something, because if that doesn't put an end to this nightmare I don't know what will!"

And with those words, he zoomed into the den, heading straight for his father's liquor cabinet. Harry went after him, panic rising within him. "Dracums, no! You can't do that! You'll kill yourself!"

"I don't care!"

"But I do!" Harry shouted, and grabbed Draco's arm, forcing him to turn around and face him. "Listen to me, Draco! This won't make any difference! Don't you see? Your mind has already been made up!"

Draco yanked free of his hand and glowered at him with eyes almost black with fury. "What the Hell is that supposed to mean?"

Harry took a step backwards to allow Draco some breathing space. "Don't you see, Draco? That Tom is in there is proof that you never got rid of him—you kept the baby and gave birth to him. Don't you see? It's already been done, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to be here."

His words seemed to sink in quite well, which he was glad for. He hated rowing with Draco like this, but it seemed to be all they ever did since learning the truth about Tom.

The blonde took a few deep breaths, and then he said, "Then let's change that. Let's find that potion. I know I've read about it somewhere, it has to be in one of my books. As soon as we've got rid of the foetus, the future Tom will cease to exist as well, right?"

Harry was silent. It was heart-breaking to see Draco in denial like that.

"Okay, let's go look through those books, then."

"Dracums …"

Draco stopped in the doorway and looked back at him. "What?"

"You protected him just now."

"Yeah? But that was before I knew he'd tried to kill you."

"You knew he wanted to kill me even before that. You told me so, but I didn't want to listen."

"Piper was there, he wouldn't have killed you in front of her."

"He didn't care when he killed Hermione in front of us," Harry objected.

"That was a completely different situation …"

"Oh, yeah? Exactly how was that different, Draco?"

"Well, because … because he wanted to prove himself to us or something. I don't know! Quit asking me all these stupid questions and get busy reading already!" He walked out of the den before Harry could say anything else. Sighing, he followed his lover, but stopped dead just inside the door to the parlour. Before him, Tom was standing with his arm around the blonde boy's throat, his wand in his hand anew and now pointing it straight at the boy's left temple. Draco had frozen just two steps in front of Harry and was staring at them, wide-eyed with fright.

"Stand back!" Tom shouted. "Stand back or I'll kill him! I bet you wouldn't want that, Harry, would you? You've figured out who he is, haven't you?"

Harry swallowed hard. Yes, he thought he knew who this kid was.

And he did not wish to see him dead.

"Harry, what is he doing?" Draco asked, his voice trembling noticeably.

"Beats me," Harry replied.

Tom fixed his eyes on Harry's and nodded to the right of him. "You! Come here! NOW!"

Harry had no choice but to obey. The moment he got within reach of Tom, Tom shouted, "Toki portalis ouvrir!", and a transparent, shimmering oval disc of approximately eight feet in diameter opened itself two feet from Tom and his hostage, and he brutally threw the boy at the disc—whereupon he vanished and the disc closed itself around him.

Harry cried out in surprise and stumbled backwards. Before he could act, Tom had sprung forward and grasped him. Now he was the hostage. "There! Now that I've got rid of that little bugger we can get down to business."

Harry immediately understood what Tom was getting at—and it had probably been his intention right from the very start. He wanted to convert Draco to the dark side once more, and now that he had failed to kill Harry he would use him as collateral. He would use him to get Draco to do what he wanted, and Harry knew that Draco would oblige, after some resistance.

He just wished he had brought his wand with him downstairs, because now it seemed so stupid to be walking around the Manor without it, knowing that Tom was there … But the thought had just never crossed his mind.

"Dad, I want you to listen carefully if you want your lover boy to stay alive," Tom said to Draco, "because it seems that you have totally missed the point here, and, really, I thought you were smarter than that. Or are you just biased because you're currently carrying me inside the synthetic womb Aunt Piper created for you?

"You see, what I want, and what I've wanted ever since I was nine years old, is to become the new Dark Lord and introduce a new dark regime to the world. I want to rule over all magic and every single living creature—I want to bring eternal darkness to this sorry place! But, you see, there is a slight problem … a new Dark Lord will rise tonight unless we stop him, and that is what I've been planning all along.

"I don't really need Harry, he'll only be in the way, but if it'll help me get your support in this, Dad, I'll keep him alive for you. I'll seal him in this house, using magic to make sure that he can't escape and that no-one can get in from the outside to help him. So, you help me steal my throne and I'll spare your lover. What do you say, Dad? Do we have a deal?"

During Tom's speech, Draco stood open-mouthed and stared at him, unseeing, as if he had escaped into some sort of internal dream landscape with no intention of returning. Maybe all the events of the past few weeks had finally played its part and sent him flying into the depths of insanity; maybe it was the only thing left for him now. Harry hoped to God that was not the case.

After standing there in utter and somewhat disturbing silence for several seconds after Tom's offer, Draco shook his paralysis and slowly nodded. "You have a deal," he said solemnly.

Harry could not believe his ears. What? No fight? Just a simple 'okay' and that was that? It was actually kind of dissatisfactory … an anti-climax.

Tom laughed, self-satisfied. "I'm glad you understand the gravity of the situation," he said, and loosened his grip on Harry somewhat. "I'm confident we'll have world domination within ten hours when we're working together."

"I'm sure we will," Draco agreed gloomily. "But there is one thing I need to ask you first."

The smile faded from Tom's delusional face. "What? You gonna start making demands now, too?"

Draco shook his head. "Not 'demands' plural; just a demand. I ask for one hour alone with Harry before we begin our … world domination."

"What? You're in no position to make such a demand!"

"I am not asking much. Simply an hour together with my boyfriend before I join the dark side."

"No way! I simply can't have that!"

"You owe me, Tom. After all, I am your father, right? You keep calling me 'Dad' with evident respect, but when you address Harry there is only scorn in your voice. Can't you give your Dad just one hour to say goodbye to the love of his life?"

Tom appeared to be in obvious indecision about this, because he kept opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Ultimately, he nodded very reluctantly and let go of Harry altogether. "Alright. But only an hour. And when I come back here I expect to find you right on this spot, ready to leave. If there is any kind of delay, I will kill him. Alright?"

When they were finally left alone, Draco ran up to him and threw himself in his arms; tears were running down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Harry, I'm so sorry … I never should've run out like that before, it was stupid of me. Had I only stayed in here we would have been in control of the situation, but now … now I'm forced to do his dirty deeds and help him become the new Lord Voldemort!"

Harry soothed him. "Shhh, it's not your fault. And you don't need to do anything, we can be well prepared for his return. We'll just get our wands, practice a few spells—"

"No! I want to spend this hour with you, I don't want to waste it on spells that will be in vain. We'll get our arses out of this pinch somehow, I know we will, but right now I just want to be with you. I want to make love to you one last time—maybe two, if you're up for it."

"You say it as if you believe we'll be dead in a few hours …"

"We might be—who knows? Please, Harry, don't think this over too much, let's just have this moment together …"

He pressed his lips to Harry's very gently, and Harry died a little the moment he understood just how serious Draco was to go through with it; it was all there in the vulnerability in his kiss. Involuntarily realising the severity of the low they had reached, Harry was determined to ease some of Draco's pain and, if possible, make him calmer, providing him with some security—at least for an hour. Therefore, he made no objections to the suggested idea, but simply escorted Draco to their bedroom on the third floor and carefully closed the door behind them.

Harry was prepared to play his usual role of being on top, taking all the initiatives, since that seemed to be what Draco liked most—and what Harry liked most was for Draco to be pleased—and was therefore surprised when Draco swiftly undressed both himself and Harry and pushed Harry down on top of the bed. Not one second did their tongues part, and they never broke eye contact as if they were magnets drawn to each other. Keeping eye contact was like a flash of extra passion intriguing them and exciting them further.

Draco placed semi-wet kisses along Harry's jawline, occasionally pausing to suck on a particular spot of extra sensitive skin, then moving down to his neck, teasingly nibbling at his earlobe. Harry responded by kissing Draco's forehead and gently massaging the blonde's shoulders. He forgot all their troubles when he felt his lover's tongue on his chest and belly, painting intricate patterns on his prickling skin, leaving hot traces of saliva behind.

But Draco did not stop there, he went further down, further down … took Harry in his mouth, using his tongue and lips—and sometimes even his teeth, but very carefully—to make Harry gasp and buck and tense beneath him. Harry put his hands on Draco's head, his fingertips boring into the blonde's skull to urge him on, and Draco sucked harder, harder, moving his mouth faster over Harry's erection, and Harry instinctively lifted his hips in response, meeting his lover half-way, uttering low, guttural noises, taking an even firmer grip on Draco's skull. And like clockwork, a tinkling sensation started to spread from the region around his crotch up through the rest of his body, sending sparks through his nervous system, tremors rising from within, and tiny dots of golden light appeared in his periphery.

Draco noticed the change in his lover and stopped sucking. "Hey! Wait for me!" he warned with a wide, mocking smile on his perfect lips. Harry nodded very swiftly and turned around. Lost in his world of pleasure as he was, he could not quite comprehend what Draco wanted him to do.

"Why are you lying on your stomach now?" Draco asked. "I wanna see your face when I make you scream, so turn back around—chop, chop!"

Harry did as he was told, eager to continue, and Draco maintained that mocking smile as he slowly, sensually licked his own fingers and coated his erection with his saliva before entering Harry. As he pushed inside, Harry gasped violently, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of him—but in a pleasant sort of way. It had been some time since he was on the bottom, and he had almost forgotten how wonderful it felt. He was so used to being on top, always so attentive to Draco's reactions and motions that he found it hard to relax and let Draco 'repay the favour.'

When Draco began to thrust forcefully, he quickly forgot about it, though. Filled once more with the lovely tinkling sensations and the rising tremble and the sparkling golden specks of light in his periphery, he indulged himself fully, rising to receive each thrust with great enthusiasm. They were perfectly synchronised; their shallow, quick breathing; their pounding heartbeats; the rhythm of their lovemaking; the very movement of their fluttering eyelashes … Perfectly synchronised. Harry could not tell his body from Draco's anymore—they were one. One entity that floated somewhere between reality and illusion, and it was the most wonderful feeling he had ever experienced.

They were closing in now, they were racing towards goal, side by side, and Draco spontaneously took Harry's hands in his. Shouting each other's names, they reached physical climax, but it was nothing like the emotional climax they were simultaneously experiencing. They had become more affected by the threat on their lives than they had initially thought, and their need for intimacy was greater than ever.

Afterwards, they lay still, holding each other, enjoying the silence. Harry slid down and kissed Draco's stomach affectionately, consciously acknowledging the third person in the room.

When he had slid back up, Draco was watching him with puzzlement in his silver eyes. "Harry … why did you do that?" he asked, sounding as if he couldn't believe that Harry could actually do such a thing.

Harry's face lit up in a smile of genuine happiness. "I was simply expressing my love for the people that are most important to me," he replied with honesty.

The blonde was silent for a long while. "Harry … do you think I'm doing the wrong thing?"

Harry gazed up at him with semi-knitted eyebrows. "What d'you mean?"

"About the baby, I mean. Do you think we should go through with the termination, or do you really think that we should keep it?"

"I don't really think I have any say in this—it's your body, your decision to make. I don't want to express myself in this matter."

Draco looked him deep into the eyes. "You don't need to. That kiss said more than a thousand words. You think I'm doing the wrong thing. You think we should keep the baby, don't you? You don't need to feel afraid of answering, I won't get mad."

Harry did not need to think it over. "I've kind of grown fond of the idea of becoming a father, to be honest with you. This whole thing about you being pregnant … it has sort of grown on me. There is still time for us to prevent the mistakes we made … er, will make—would make? Never mind. We can still prevent Tom from growing up to be cold and heartless. We have twenty-one years, Draco. That is a lot of time."

Draco sighed and put his forehead on Harry's chest. "I know, I just … I say that we look up that potion, just in case. As a back-up plan, you know, in case we need to take drastic measures in order to stop Tom from becoming the Dark Lord."

"I guess I'll have to agree with you. Okay, so I'll search for the potion, then."

"Why you?"

"I'm going to be stuck here anyway, aren't I? Tom will magically lock me in this house until you have helped him with … whatever. Might as well use the time."

"You're right. And during that time, I will try to find a way to get around Tom's magic and get back inside the house to grab the potion."

Time was almost up.

They got up from the bed and started to get dressed.

When Tom returned, he had a very urgent and impatient expression on his face, and it was clear that he was very agitated over something. He could not stand still, and he kept glancing at his wrist watch. "Something's happening—something big," he told Draco, "we need to go right away if we're to make any difference in the time continuum."

Draco looked dumbstruck. "The time what?"

Tom sighed irritably. "Never you mind. It's beyond you, anyway. You couldn't possibly grasp the dynamics of time travelling even if you bothered your little blonde head."

"Hey! Don't try to imply that I'm some sort of airhead, young man! I'll be sure to cut your allowance for the upcoming ten years, you be so sure!"

"Oooh, you are really scaring me, Dad. Really, is that the best you can do? Now get your lazy arse over here so we can go. You!" He pointed at Harry. "You're staying here—forever."

They vanished before Harry had any time to object. The first thing he did once they had left was to try the windows and see if Tom really had put a magical seal on the house. He threw a book at one of the French windows, and once it hit the plain glass surface, it was struck by at least a dozen orange flashes of strong electrical energy which would probably have killed Harry had he tried to open it. "Great," he said to himself. "Now what do I do?"

"I think you might find this of interest," a voice said from behind him.

Startled, he swirled around to see who was there.

It was the blond boy from earlier that day. Harry relaxed. "How did you get in here?" he asked, amazed and impressed. "Tom sealed the house with some sort of powerful magic."

The boy's green eyes shone eerily in the gloom. "That magic does not apply to the laws of time travelling," he stated. "Here. Read this, it will help you understand what is going on outside right now."

The boy was holding tomorrow's edition of The Daily Prophet. Harry took it and looked at the front page. The headline struck him like a blow to the head.

Yesterday evening, several witches and wizards witnessed the rise of a new Dark Lord.

There was a picture beneath the headline, probably taken from one of the onlookers without the Dark Lord's knowledge—or maybe he had even ordered the photograph to be taken himself, to make sure that every single witch and wizard learnt of his 'taking over the throne' after Voldemort, so to speak.

But what nonplussed and shocked Harry so much was not the fact that a new Dark Lord had risen—or was in this very minute rising—but who it was. It was just too unbelievable to be true, yet the man in the picture could be no-one else. He was hovering a few yards above the ground, wearing a long, black cloak, and the smile on his face was one of utter evil.

The man was Percy Weasley.