The interrogation of Lucius Malfoy took place the very next day. The Headmaster spent nearly five hours locked in a room with the Death Eater, detained and dosed with the strongest, most potent Veritaserum that Severus had in stock. The Potions Master could not help but pace across his study nervously every hour or so, wondering what was being asked, how it was being answered.

Harry, on the other hand, was having a hard time trying to get Draco to talk about anything, regarding his father or not. He stayed unnervingly quiet the whole time, driving Harry crazy when he just wanted to hear the Slytherin’s voice. “Draco, please talk to me. Tell me anything. Call me an idiot Gryffindor. Anything,” Harry begged kneeling on the sofa beside Draco, his hands clasped tightly in front of him.

Draco half-glared half-smiled at Harry’s antics, pulling the Gryffindor so that he fell into his lap. He brushed the unruly locks away from Harry’s eyes as he kissed him gently on the lips. “I’m sorry, love. I’m just...worried, scared, confused. You name it.”

“You know I love you, right?”

“Of course I do,” Draco said, his tone scandalized, even as he pulled Harry closer to him. “I love you too, you prat.”

Harry smiled, reaching up to cup Draco’s smooth cheek. He had never really given much thought to it, but now as he lay there, sprawled across Draco’s lap and comfortable in his tight embrace, Harry couldn’t help but admire just how beautiful the blonde really was. His skin was pale and smooth, his hair silky and shiny, and he smelled so wonderful Harry had a hard time not taking deep whiffs every time he breathed near the Slytherin.

“You’re beautiful,” Harry whispered, brushing his knuckles along Draco’s cheek, annoyed yet amused that he didn’t even feel any stubble there.

“I prefer the term ‘handsome’, but I’ll take it. You’re not half bad yourself, you know,” Draco teased, leaning down to catch Harry’s lips in a kiss once more.

Harry smirked, wrapping a hand around Draco’s neck and pulling him down for a much deeper kiss that had them both panting for breath. “You’re a vain git.”

“Mmm, but you love me this way.”

“I’ll always love you, no matter what,” Harry said quietly, their teasing suddenly becoming much more serious. The Gryffindor sat up a bit straighter, though still in Draco’s lap, and met the blonde’s intense gaze with his own. “I want a promise from you, Draco.”

“What promise?” Draco asked, his voice sounding quite breathy as he found it hard to look directly into Harry’s emerald gaze. The sheer power he felt and saw in those eyes made him shudder with want and such a strong surge of protectiveness and love that he felt nearly overwhelmed.

“Promise me that we’ll always be together, no matter what happens.”

Draco smiled warmly at the Gryffindor pulling him in for a much sweeter, gentler kiss. “I promise.”

“Adorable as you both may be together, I do not think Severus would approve of your current seating arrangements,” Remus said in a sardonic voice, giving Harry a pointed look. The werewolf had been in Severus’ study just moments before, trying to get the man to come out and relax for awhile. The Potions Master was having none of it, however.

“You’re just jealous because Severus doesn’t sit in your lap,” Draco joked, earning himself a chuckle and punch in the arm from Harry. “Ouch!”

“Maybe not in the middle of the sitting room...” Remus drawled, smirking as Harry giggled and Draco put on a horrified face. He loved how expressive children could be, even in the face of trying times.

“I did not need to know that!”

“I believe there’s a Muggle saying about cats and curiosity, Draco?” Severus said with a smirk of his own as he finally came out of his study. He saw Harry attempt to scramble out of Draco’s lap, nearly perilously injuring the other boy, who yelled, “Oi, I need those, you know!” He took his open armchair, which was by far his favourite, and accepted the cup of tea that Remus offered to him.

“Besides, my armchair is much more comfortable than your bony hips, Lupin.”

“I’ll keep comment about bony hips to myself, I think,” Remus said in a low voice, making the Potions Master blush and the teens snort in laughter.

“I believe there’s another Muggle saying, about cats and being in possession of one’s tongue?” Remus mocked, ducking as the Potions Master launched a throw pillow at his head.

The floo roared to life just then, the Headmaster’s face appearing in the green flames. He looked worn out, but determined. “The interrogation is over. As I promised, Severus, you may come watch it in the Pensive at your convenience. I will tell you now, however, that I believe Lucius Malfoy to be sincere in his concerns and decisions to leave Voldemort’s service. He still has a few qualms about blood-status, but has agreed to help with whatever he can regarding the Order. There will be an Order meeting later tonight. For now, we both need our rest. The Pensieve is ready on the desk for you.”

Without so much as waiting for any questions or comments, Dumbledore ended the fire call, leaving Severus quite annoyed and Harry and Draco slightly confused.

“A few ‘qualms’? Doesn’t he mean prejudiced arse-like opinions about Muggles and Muggle-borns?” Harry asked with a derisive snort, scowling as Draco gave him a dark look.

“The Headmaster said he’s of the opinion that my father is sincere, so that means we can trust him,” Draco argued. He knew his father was going to be a sore subject for him, he just hoped it wouldn’t cause some sort of rift between him and Harry.

Severus stood from his armchair and resumed his pacing, ignoring the way Remus rolled his eyes. “Not necessarily, Draco. Being sincere does not make you trustworthy.”

“He was under Veritaserum for five hours!”

“You know as well as I do that Lucius has been able to skirt questions under Veritaserum before. I don’t think it would be wise to peruse the Pensieve just yet. What I’d like is to speak with the man myself,” Severus said, pausing in his pacing with a look on concentration on his face.

“He’ll still be under the effects, Dad,” Harry reminded the Potions Master.

Severus turned and gave Harry a truly frightening smile that the Gryffindor hoped he would never have to see again. “Precisely.”

“Severus, Albus gave you completely valid reasons for why he didn’t want you questioning Lucius. You are biased; it is not a good idea. Besides, you don’t even know where he is,” Remus pointed out, his tone extremely annoyed.

“But I know how I can find him, Remus. Harry, I believe you have quite an extraordinary map of Hogwarts and it’s grounds?” Severus said in a sickly sweet voice, his smirk becoming wider as Remus flinched.

“I should have seen that coming,” the werewolf admitted with a frown.

Harry was looking between his father and step-father, feeling quite uncomfortable. He didn’t know who to agree with, or what to do. He feared that if his father did question Lucius, he wouldn’t be very nice about it. However, Harry wasn’t all that concerned about Lucius being treated fairly. But he knew it would hurt Draco, and so he was torn.

“Look, I think Remus is right. I’m sure Dumbledore asked Lucius everything even you could think of, and he had Draco’s huge list of suggested questions as well. Maybe if you just go look in the Pensieve, you’ll find that all your questions have already been answered.”

“Just wait until the meeting tonight at least, Severus. I’m sure you won’t be able to contain your questions then,” Remus said, earning himself a glare from the Potions Master.

Patience was definitely a virtue, but Severus would wait. He had his own ideas about why Lucius had a change of heart, for lack of a better word. As far as he was concerned, the man didn’t have a heart.

S~S~S~S

After fighting with Harry and Draco for nearly twenty minutes about them joining in on the Order meeting, Severus and Remus flooed through to Grimmauld Place, where there was already a sizable crowd in the basement kitchen. Severus noticed that the Headmaster and Lucius were not in attendance yet. He stood off to the side, offering the last empty seat to Remus, who gave him a warm smile. The full moon was tomorrow night, and the Defence Professor was exhausted and achy.

The room was full of the usual members, including some of the Hogwarts staff, which couldn’t all attend and leave the castle unattended. A few familiar, yet new faces were there as well; Fred and George Weasley. They were both whispering to each other with quite serious faces, which was highly unusual for the dynamic duo.

Conversation ceased as soon as Dumbledore flooed in, closely followed by Lucius Malfoy. Apparently, those in attendance had been warned of the former Death Eater’s presence, as no one pulled their wands and hexed him straight away.

“I call this meeting to order. Everyone please, make yourselves quite comfortable; we may be here a while,” Albus explained, conjuring two comfortable looking armchairs for himself and Lucius.

Severus sighed and drew his wand, conjuring a chair for himself. He ignored the soft looks he received from a few of the female Order members when Remus scooted his chair back, so that they sat side by side.

“As you’ve all been informed, Lucius Malfoy has defected to the side of the Light. Dire circumstances, plus a change of heart, have changed his loyalties, and he has made an Unbreakable Vow to me that he will never rejoin Voldemort, he will do everything in his power to help us win this war, and he will give any information he knows about Voldemort’s plans.

“Furthermore, as most of you are aware of, an abduction attempt occurred night before last, in which Mr. Potter was removed from the castle by a time release portkey. Such a dire mistake in the warding is not acceptable, and it is my suggestion that those of you who have the time and resources to research, should do so and report any knowledgeable findings to me. Lucius is the only reason that we managed to recover young Harry, and send two of the most dangerous Death Eaters back to Azkaban where they belong. On that note, I’d like to turn things over to Lucius.”

The Headmaster waved his arms, indicating that Lucius should take things over from him. The blonde man sat up straighter, pulling his robes tighter around him as he seemed to mentally prepare himself for his Order debut.

“Thank you, Albus. As one of the Dark Lord’s former Inner Circle followers, I was privy to quite a bit of useful information. Not necessarily all of it, no, but enough to be able to provide you all with details of very important plans which are soon going to be put into effect by the Dark Lord. With the recent development of losing three of his most loyal Death Eaters, things might be set back, but not for very long. If one thing is certain, it is that the Dark Lord knows how to bounce back quite quickly.

“That having been said, I have already informed the Headmaster of everything I know, and he has deemed a few of the details too important to give out to the entire Order. Therefore, the version of plans I will tell you tonight have been slightly altered, but are still true and accurate.”

It was painfully obvious to everyone in the room that Lucius Malfoy was a very eloquent, charismatic speaker. If he hadn’t been using money to gain the upper hand when it came to politics, his power of persuasive speech would have gotten him anything he wanted just the same. However, there was a definite intensity in the air that suggested not all of the Order were ready to believe this man.

“I know most people will take the Headmaster’s word with a grain of salt these days, no offense Albus, but why exactly should we believe anything you say? I certainly haven’t forgotten who you are, and what you’ve done. In fact, I think I know more than anyone else here about who you really are, Lucius,” Severus said, his voice low and mocking as he glared across the table at the aristocratic man.

“If you choose not to believe in Headmaster Dumbledore’s trust, that is your own decision, Severus,” Lucius said, his patience obviously drawn thin, though his sense of decorum kept him from snapping at the man as he usually would. Oh, how it irked him that he no longer had any power over that damn, snarky man.

Fred leaned over, looking down the table towards Lucius as George prodded him in the side impatiently. “We’re of Snape’s opinion over here. Professor Dumbledore’s word is a pretty hefty thing and all, but this man was the reason our baby sister nearly died five years ago. How could we possibly trust him?”

There were many murmurs of agreement as the Order began to whisper amongst themselves, some of them apparently unaware of this detail. All eyes were trained on Lucius once more, and his irritation was starting to show.

“I had no idea that giving that book to Ginny Weasley would cause the problem that it did, or that it could cost the girl her life. I was simply following orders. Much the same way our Severus here was only following orders when he delivered half of the prophecy to the Dark Lord some sixteen years ago,” Lucius drawled, sending a very unpleasant smile towards Severus, who was shaking with fury.

“How dare you,” Severus hissed, sliding his wand out of his sleeve very slowly.

“In fact, I don’t think Wizarding Family Services would have allowed Severus to adopt Mr. Potter had they known he was responsible for the poor child losing his parents to begin with,” Lucius continued on, obviously taking pleasure in Severus’ reactions.

Remus pulled Severus’ arm down just in time as the man had intended to start a duel in the middle of the kitchen. He held his husband’s wrist firmly, giving him a look that said to calm down. He glared down at Lucius, who was smiling smugly.

“Peter Pettigrew is the reason the Potters were killed, Malfoy. That has nothing to do with the fact that your loyalties are still somewhat up in the air. Forgive us for thinking that the man who tried to kill Harry less than a year ago isn’t exactly trustworthy!”

“We’ve had years of loyalty and spying services from Severus to know that, even though he was once part of the Death Eaters, he changed his ways. All we have from you is the fact that you, thankfully, saved Harry from being taken to Voldemort, but only because you wanted something out of him. How many people have you killed, tortured, raped during your time as a Death Eater? Severus can honestly answer that question with none. I’m sure you can’t say the same for yourself,” Molly intoned calmly from beside George, who was patting her hand on the table. It was obvious that her husband’s passing had made a big impact on her, as she looked exhausted and had lost even more weight.

“You will learn, Lucius, that this is my territory now. You may have been used to being more important than I in the Dark Lord’s circle, but here, you are nothing,” Severus hissed between clenched teeth, sure he was bruising his husband’s hand under the table in order to keep control of himself.

“I have the utmost confidence in Lucius’ reasons for leaving Voldemort’s service and coming to us. He has been questioned thoroughly, and his answers have been deemed satisfactory. Despite past grievances, Lucius has invaluable information for us, and we should be glad that we have the opportunity to hear what he has to say. Very many of you who have been with the Order since it’s very first meeting, had similar issues trusting Severus. I hope we can find it in our hearts to give this man, who has lost nearly everything in this war, a second chance to redeem himself,” Dumbledore said firmly, fixing his heavy stare on Severus, whose anger still had not subsided in the slightest bit.

The Potions Master was still spoiling for a fight, and wanted nothing more than to knock that smug look from Lucius Malfoy’s face. It was obvious that it was getting him nowhere, however, so Severus decided he would let it go, for now. Soon enough, the rest of the Order would come to see how sadistic this man really was.

Lucius looked around to the rest of the Order members, who still seemed a little torn over the argument. A few were looking eager to hear this information, while others still looked wary in trusting this man’s words.

“Shall I continue then, Headmaster?” Lucius asked, pretending to be unaffected by the blazing death glare he was receiving from his fellow former Death Eater. Despite the man having a few good points in his argument, Lucius was sincere. He wanted what was best for him and his son, and he knew now that the tables had turned. He accepted the nod from Dumbledore and cleared his throat, getting his speech back on track after the annoying interruption.

“The first step is infiltrating the Ministry. I’m sure everybody here knows that there are quite a few Death Eaters within the Ministry at this time. However, the Dark Lord just gained a new follower who, apparently, is proving quite useful. After Severus was found to be a traitor, the Dark Lord went looking for another Potions Master. They aren’t easy to find, especially since our very own is the top in Britain and Scotland. He reached across the English Channel and found a Frenchman. I do not know this man’s name; no one save the Dark Lord does. He gained employment at the Ministry as an Unspeakable, performing Potions experiments of all kinds. He was sympathetic to the Dark Lord’s plans, and took the Mark sometime before December. Since then, he’s been helping the Dark Lord produce a potion that will strip a magical being of their powers. Ghastly dark stuff, but the worst part is that the Ministry has been allowing him to do so within the Department of Mysteries. They’re supporting his efforts, and the Dark Lord’s by proxy.”

Dumbledore turned towards Severus, who was looking quite angry at the prospect of being replaced by a Frenchman. “Severus, I know you have extensive knowledge of all of your competitors. How many Potions Masters reside in France?”

“As far as I know off the top of my head, only three. However, this man that is now working for the Ministry may not be a true Potions Master. How is the Dark Lord so sure?” Severus directed the question at Lucius, who even in a room full of people who strongly disliked him, managed to look quite smug.

“Foolish question, Severus. He was subjected to quite a bit of questioning under Veritaserum, not to mention a bit of torture here and there,” the blonde answered, giving the Potions Professor a look that said he should have known better, and that the torturing was most likely done by his own hand.

“His own Veritaserum? Need I remind you how many times I saved my own life by taking my own, altered truth serum?”

Lucius shrugged, even making that look elegant. “I do not know where the potion came from, Severus. I only know that three days were spent questioning, and on the end of the third, he received the Dark Mark.”

“The second step, Lucius?” Dumbledore asked calmly, dragging everyone’s attention back to the blonde instead of an irate Snape, who didn’t look pleased with Lucius’ answer.

“The second step, Headmaster, is the probably the biggest of them all. After the Ministry has been underhanded and taken over, the Dark Lord plans to devise a registry, where anyone of impure blood must register with the Ministry at once, or face an immediate Dementor’s Kiss. These Witches and Wizards will be collected and amassed in camps, which he described as being very similar to those of the Muggle Nazi Holocaust. He seems to think Adolf Hitler had the right way of thinking, even if he was a Muggle,” Lucius drawled, knowing that only a few people in the room would even know who or what he was talking about.

“Anyways, these camps would be like torture chambers. The men would be put under Imperius and used as expendable soldiers, while the women and children would be used as sex slaves. Despite all of this, upon arrival at these camps, every person would be forced to take the Potion which would strip them of their magical powers, rendering them all into beings none more magical than Muggles themselves. A few of you might be wondering why the Dark Lord doesn’t just kill them all and be done with it, but I can tell you why. There is no pleasure for him in just mere death. He needs to see, hear, smell, and taste the torture, know that pain of unbearable proportions is being suffered by these people. However, he does plan to kill them all, eventually. But the next step has to happen before he’ll do away with them.”

“And that would be?” Severus ground out, thoroughly irritated at Malfoy’s obvious theatrics and the way his fellow Order members were falling prey to it all. Why couldn’t the man just get on with it and lay it all out in the open?

“The third and final step in this grand plan is moving his army against the Muggle population, and taking over so that it would be the Muggles who hide in fear amongst the Wizards. He plans to take Britain first, then the Continent, and so forth.”

“How the hell does this madman expect to get all of this done?” Tonks asked from near the end of the table, where Charlie Weasley was sitting almost indecently close to her and holding her hand tightly in his own.

Lucius smiled indulgently at the witch, no doubt recalling fond memories of when he had imprisoned and questioned her. “Through cunning and ambition, of course. He was a member of Slytherin house when he attended Hogwarts, after all.”

“Yes, unfortunately for the rest of us Slytherins who aren’t barking mad,” Kingsley said from the other side of the table, earning a few curious looks. Apparently it was not widely known that the Minister had indeed attended Hogwarts, and had been a Slytherin. Severus offered him an appreciative smirk.

Lucius didn’t look very appreciative of the comment himself, but he didn’t indulge the Minister in his thoughts at all, instead turning to look at the Headmaster. “The first thing I think should happen is making sure no more of the Ministry’s employees can be put under the Imperius curse. Having our own Ministry plants as part of the Order will help us with that, not to mention having the Minister himself here. The Unspeakables experimentation with the magic stripping potions needs to be stopped as well. Without that potion, these plans become futile.”

“Even being the Minister, my influence is still highly limited. We have clearance in the Department of Mysterious though, I believe. Dedalus?” Kingsley asked of the man sitting to his right.

“Yes, sir, though I’m not sure in which adjunct department this is taking place. Unspeakables are not exactly known for their gossiping. I’ll see what I can do about finding out who’s in charge, and also finding out who this French Potions Master fellow is.”

“Jean-Pierre Moreau,” Severus blurted, causing several people to stare at him. “He’s a Beauxbatons graduate, a few years older than myself. He earned his Mastery the same year that I did, and was extremely angry when I was awarded top scores and Mastery in both Britain and Scotland, whereas he only received top scores and Mastery in France, though we both tried for Germany and lost it to Mallory Krause of Durmstrang, three years younger than him and quite a bright witch. I know he’s a Voldemort sympathiser. That has to be who it is.”

“Researchers, find out what you can about Jean-Pierre Moreau, and whether or not he is still residing in France,” Dumbledore instructed, watching as the members in charge of research wrote the man’s name down and the information Severus had given them.

The meeting went on for another hour or so, small plans being made to keep the Ministry from falling under Voldemort’s influence. If they cut off the megalomaniac’s plans before they even began, they had a chance of derailing them completely.

Severus and Remus returned to Hogwarts, tired and slightly irritated when the Headmaster asked them not to reveal any of the meeting’s plans to Harry. The boy had the right to know what was happening, and Severus planned to make sure that Harry was informed.

After sitting him and Draco down to discuss the meeting, Harry became immediately irritated. “Why doesn’t Dumbledore just let me into the Order? I need to know all of this stuff if I’m going to be the one to get rid of Voldemort!”

“I think, Harry, that Albus does not think these bigger plans concern you. He wants you as little involved as possible, and so sets the Order to take care of the rest. He said he had something important to discuss with you, and he could put it off no longer. I expect he’ll be asking to speak with you soon,” Severus said, very irritated himself with the Headmaster. He knew the man was keeping something else from him, something that concerned Harry, and that was almost unforgivable to him.

No sooner had Severus spoke than the floo flared to life, the Headmaster’s head floating amongst the green flames. “Harry, my boy! I was wondering if you’d be willing to come to my office for a spot of tea? I have something very important to discuss with you.”

Severus and Harry shared a look that said they both knew the man entirely too well, and Harry nodded. “Sure, Professor. Should I step through?”

“Yes, of course,” Dumbledore said before pulling his head out of the fire and allowing the Gryffindor to step through into his office. He watched as the boy brushed off his robes and then followed him to his desk, taking the seat across from the Headmaster as they both sat.

“Tea, Harry?” Albus asked, holding up an ornate tea cup and steaming pot of fragrant tea.

“Sure, that’d be nice,” Harry said with a sad smile, feeling his heart ache as he saw the black, decaying hand struggle to grip the cup properly.

“Now then, I’m sure your fathers have undoubtedly let you in on Voldemort’s most recent plans, despite my urging them to keep it to themselves?” the Headmaster asked, his eyes twinkling as ever.

“Naturally,” Harry responded, sipping at his tea as the Headmaster chuckled indulgently.

“Yes, I expected as much. Well, Harry, I had asked them not to inform you for a reason. I do not want you concerning yourself with Order matters such as those plans. You have a very different, very important task you must complete, and fretting over Voldemort’s plan will only distract you.”

“I know I have to be the one to defeat Voldemort, sir, so how do his plans to essentially take over the world not concern me?”

“Because, Harry, there are much bigger things to be concerned about. Do you know what a Horcrux is?”

Harry’s face scrunched in confusion, thrown by the sudden question. “No, I’ve never heard that word before.”

Dumbledore gave a nod, as if this confirmed his suspicions. “Unsurprising, I must say, as Horcruxes are very dark magic. So dark, in fact, that all books pertaining to how they are made, kept, and destroyed were ordered to be destroyed a few centuries previous. However, a few of them survived the purge. The practice is now almost unheard of, but unfortunately for us, the information has fallen into the wrong hands.”

“What is a Horcrux, sir?” Harry asked tentatively, afraid to even know what these apparently evil things were.

“A Horcrux, Harry, is an object which contains a portion of somebody’s soul, placed there for safekeeping, in order to avoid death. Without destroying both the piece of soul held in the object, and the piece left residing in the living human, one cannot be killed.”

Harry felt his stomach drop. This did not sound good at all. “So, you’re telling me that Voldemort has made one of these Horcruxes, and I have to destroy it first before I can kill him?”

“No, I’m telling you that Voldemort has made no less than six Horcruxes, and they all must be destroyed before you can kill him, the seventh and final piece,” the Headmaster said in a matter of fact voice, staying calm as Harry blanched.

“Six! But they could be anything, couldn’t they? How do you split your soul anyways?” Harry asked, horrified at the very thought of ripping his soul into two, let alone seven pieces. No wonder the bastard was barely human.

“By the most heinous, unforgivable act there is; murder. A Horcrux can only be created on the heels of a murder. When a Wizard takes the life of another person, their soul becomes torn in two. With the right spell, this piece of soul can be transferred to an outside object, therefore protecting the Wizard from death. Voldemort has committed six murders, at least, and has created six Horcruxes, the seventh piece lying inside of him still.”

“So I have to figure out what these things are, where they are, and figure out how to destroy them before I can even think of killing Voldemort? How long have you know about this?” Harry asked, starting to feel anger pulsing through his veins. Just how long was Dumbledore planning to keep this from him?

Dumbledore sighed wearily, leaning back in his chair as he looked as old as every one of his one-hundred plus years. “I have suspected this information for about five years now; since you brought me Tom Riddle’s diary and described to me the memory of young Tom, stealing Ms. Weasley’s life force. I have done much research since then, and upon finding a Horcrux of my own, my suspicions were confirmed. I have been collecting memories and information for years on this matter, Harry, but I did not receive confirmation until this past year, when I was burdened with this curse,” Dumbledore said, shaking back his sleeve to expose the spreading curse scar up his arm. 

“So, wait – if I destroyed the diary, and you destroyed that ring, does that mean there are only four Horcruxes left?” Harry asked, feeling slightly better about his chances with that information.

“By my calculations, yes, and I may just know what another one of them may be. I also have my suspicions about the other three as well, but it is all merely speculation at this point. However, Harry, as you’re well aware, I do not have much time left. As much as I did not want to burden you with this task, I fear it is time to pass it on to you, for I will not be able to do it on my own very soon. I am weakening, quite rapidly, and it is essential that you know everything that I do about these Horcruxes and how to destroy them.”

“Were you planning on ever telling me, or did you just decide you had no other choice because you’re dying?” Harry asked, knowing that he was being perhaps a little crass, but not really caring anymore. He’d had enough of being kept in the dark already.

“I did not think it was important for you to know, Harry. What with the weight of the Prophecy, I believed you already had too much on your shoulders as it was. I did not want to add the stress of this as well. You’re just a boy, Harry – ”

“I have never been ‘just a boy’, sir. The moment Voldemort killed my parents and marked me as his equal, I stopped being a child. You’ll note that keeping the Prophecy from me for so long not only left me open to Voldemort’s manipulations, but it got Sirius killed! Who else has to die in order for you to set it all out in the open and come clean? Your ridiculous attempts to protect my innocence are foolish, and I am bloody sick of being kept in the dark about everything!” Harry snapped, crossing his arms over his chest to keep himself from pulling his wand and cursing the Headmaster right then and there.

“You must understand, Harry. I saw no sense in worrying you further when I myself did not have all of the answers to the questions you would undoubtedly have. Even now there are details I am unclear on, and now I have no time left to help you figure them out.”

“And whose fault is that? If you would have told me years ago, we would have had more time!” Harry yelled, standing from his seat and pacing instead. He had to do something other than sit there and glare at Dumbledore, or he was likely to do something stupid.

Dumbledore’s blue eyes no longer held any trace of their twinkle as he sat up straight and watched Harry pace. “When do you suppose I should have brought it up? Perhaps after I first suspected, when Ginny Weasley was recovering in hospital your second year? Or maybe in your third year, when you were worried sick that an escaped mass murderer was out to kill you? Oh, but there was always your fourth year, when you were forced to compete in a competition with students much older and cleverer than yourself, and then watched the Dark Lord rise once more and kill Cedric Diggory. Perhaps last year would have been best, after you lost your godfather, got your friends injured and almost killed, and learned for the first time that it was you, Harry, who had to be the one to kill Voldemort in the end? Tell me, when would you have preferred I let you know my unconfirmed suspicions that Voldemort was essentially immortal?”

Harry had stopped pacing and was now glaring daggers at the Headmaster. The man was completely incorrigible, and Harry was finding it very hard not to scream in frustration. “How about after you got confirmation on your suspicions, back when you still had a year to help me figure this all out before you snuffed it? But no, instead you let the curse spread, without telling my dad so he could help, and you let precious time slip away because you wanted to ‘protect’ me. Where the hell is the logic in that, Albus?” Harry had never addressed the Wizard by his first name before, but he felt it was time they both treated each other as equals, as adults, because despite his age, Harry was not a child.

“I am still your Headmaster, Mr. Potter, and you will still show me a modicum of respect. I have done everything in my power to keep you safe all of these years and a little gratitude would not go amiss.”

Harry’s blood boiled as Dumbledore’s smarmy tone bit at the last of Harry’s patience. “Gratitude! For keeping me completely in the dark about everything so that I looked the fool and got people killed? And here you are, letting out another huge secret that could change the outcome of the entire war, and then telling me I’m not allowed to help in the efforts to keep Voldemort and his ilk at bay?”

“You cannot do everything yourself, Harry! You have a very specific job, and you must focus on that and that only! Voldemort’s other plans do not concern you at all! You cannot singlehandedly save everyone all at once,” Dumbledore snapped, losing his patience with Harry for the first time that he could remember.

“But that’s what I’m supposed to do by fulfilling the prophecy, right? So what’s the difference? Either way everyone is asking too much of me, but of course I have no say in any of it! This destiny was thrust upon me, and I’m expected to just run with it, save the entire world from some raving lunatic on a power trip. I’ve been raised to fit the mould, honed for this purpose, like I’m just some weapon, not even a human being! Well being human is what makes me accept this destiny! I couldn’t leave the world to fend for itself out of cowardice, and you knew I would end up this way! Leaving me with the Dursleys as a baby is all the proof I need. That’s also why the Sorting hat didn’t indeed put me in Slytherin as it so wanted; because it would have helped me develop my sense of self preservation, which would have made fulfilling the prophecy impossible. I’m not a dunderheaded child anymore, and I’m certainly not blind! I am just the head pawn in this great game of war, and I’m sick of mindlessly following orders!”

Harry was out of breath, as if he’d just run a mile instead of screaming at the top of his voice at the Headmaster, his mentor and who he thought was his friend. The old man looked so tired and defeated that Harry began to feel guilty for his ranting.

“There are no more secrets, Harry, I promise. This is the last of them, and it will be up to you to finish the rest. Are you ready to hear what I know about the Horcruxes?” Dumbledore asked in a very weary, quiet voice.

Harry took a deep breath and retook his seat across from the Headmaster. If this was it, the last of the secrets, then Harry could learn to let it go. “Yes, sir. I’m ready.”

S~S~S~S

Draco was pacing outside of the concealed room, waiting and waiting, trying his hardest not to just pound on the wall and demand entrance. He’d received the owl from the Headmaster nearly an hour after Harry had gone to talk with the old man, and it had been another twenty minutes before he could get up the courage to follow the directions down to the deepest pits of the dungeons and wait for the concealed entrance to recognize his magical signature and allow him in.

The wall suddenly glowed a faint blue, and a door appeared in the stone wall. Draco reached out and twisted the handle, pulling the door open quickly. The small room looked very similar to his own, and he was very glad to see that his father was not being held like a prisoner in some stingy cell in the bowels of Hogwarts, though this was terribly close to just that.

“Father,” Draco said quietly, watching as the elder Malfoy sat up from the small bed, smiling as he caught sight of Draco.

“Dragon,” Lucius whispered standing and dragging his son into a hug. He had not indulged the boy in physical contact since he was very young, but things had changed now, and he vowed to hug his child at every opportunity, lest he lose the chance to do it ever again.

“How are you doing, son?” Lucius asked as he sat down on his bed, motioning for Draco to join him.

“I’m doing ok, I suppose. I’m just worried about Harry. It’s been a really stressful couple of weeks for him, you know?” Draco said, his expression one of mingled concern and admiration as he thought of the Gryffindor.

“How did your relationship come to be, Draco? I always thought you fancied girls, Pansy in particular. You two have known each other since birth,” Lucius asked, honestly curious about his son’s change in sexual orientation, and choice in lover. That his son would become romantically involved with Harry Potter of all people was just plain ironic.

“He was there for me when nobody else was. The entire time I was in a coma, Harry was there, talking to me, helping me not go insane. He looked for a way to bring me out of it, and eventually did pull me out of it. He helped me try to regain my memories, and tutored me on everything I had forgotten in school. Harry was a friend when I felt completely alone, especially after losing Mum. Falling in love with him just felt as natural and as essential to me as breathing. It was so easy, it was subconscious, and it was required for me to keep on living. I didn’t really care or pay attention to the fact that he was a boy, or that he was Harry Potter. He’s just Harry to me.”

Draco fixed his father with a firm, determined look, and was surprised when he didn’t see the anger he had expected reflected in his father’s eyes. “I love him, and he makes me happy.”

Lucius nodded slowly and wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders, pulling the young Slytherin closer to him. “Then I am happy for you, Dragon. That’s all I want for you, to be happy.”

Draco smiled and leaned into his father’s embrace, missing the strong hugs he used to receive from the man when he was a much smaller child. He felt like he was perhaps regressing in age a little, but nothing compared to that of a parent’s undying love. “I am happy. Very much so.”