Title: Research and Development
Author: sassy_cissa
Team: Fanon
Prompt: The World
Wordcount: 17,172
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None.
Summary: Draco comes back into Harry's life just as several of Harry's patients are beset by a mysterious new ailment. Racing against the clock, and their rising passions, can Harry and Draco work together to find a cure... or will they be too late?
Author's Note Thanks to all my Betas and the Vegas girls! Based on this meaning of the card, with focus on the aspect of ending at the beginning, beginning at the end.

Research and Development

June 1998

Harry watched as Draco Malfoy stepped from the Hogwarts Express onto the platform at King's Cross Station, steam rising around him as glanced around the station. Going back to finish their seventh year at Hogwarts had been difficult, especially without Ron, whose decision to work in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes with George, rather than complete his schooling, had been a surprise and a difficult one for Hermione to accept. With only seventeen students remaining in their class year, Harry had been forced to endure Draco's presence in nearly every subject.

Draco had matured, as they all had, after the war. His father dead and his mother enjoying her new life, Draco had been pensive and not nearly as snarky. Unfortunately for Harry, that also meant that he was bloody gorgeous, shaggable and completely unattainable. Harry studied Draco, as if attempting to burn the image into his mind forever.

He knew the second Draco located his mother by the nearly imperceptible movement of his head and the flicker of recognition in his grey eyes. Draco joined his mother, and the two of them walked through the barrier and into the Muggle part of King's Cross Station. Harry had heard a rumour that, like himself, Draco was going to study to be a Healer. Harry wasn't sure where Draco would be studying, but he had a feeling that Draco had just walked out of his life for good, and that was not a thought that pleased him.

"Goodbye, Draco," Harry whispered. He shifted his rucksack onto his shoulder, found Hermione, and together they crossed through the barrier from platform nine and three-quarters into the station, and out to begin their lives.

February 2008

"You made it," Hermione said with a smile. "I was hoping you wouldn't stand me up for lunch."

Harry placed a quick peck on her cheek, set his tray on the table, and slid into the chair across from Hermione. "I was afraid for a while there I wasn't going to make it again." Harry took a bite of his sandwich. "I hate flu season."

"Well no one is particularly fond of it, Harry." Hermione shook her head in amusement. "Although I do hear that it's a rather virulent strain this year."

Harry sat back in his chair, gesturing with the sandwich in his hand. "Remind me again why I chose to be a General Healer and didn't specialize in research with you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Does the phrase this is as boring as watching paint dry ring any bells?" She smiled when Harry blushed.

"How's Charlie?" asked Harry.

"Wonderful," Hermione said, smiling.

"You two ever plan on tying the knot? I thought maybe last year after Ron got married, Charlie would finally ask you."

"I'm not sure why you're so worried about me," Hermione replied. "At least I'm dating. You're the one who never seems to find time to date."

Harry glared, and Hermione wisely knew to drop it.

Taking another bite of her salad, she glanced around the room for the third time in as many minutes.

"Looking for someone?" Harry mumbled, his mouth full of food.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" She said disgustedly, "Have you been eating with Ron lately?" Hermione's face lit up and she smiled warmly when she spotted the person she'd been looking for. She waved someone over. "Oh, I'm so glad you decided to join us. Sit...make yourself comfortable." She pointed to the empty seat next to her.

Hermione watched intently as Harry looked up and stopped eating mid-bite, eyes widening as none other than Draco Malfoy took the chair across from him.

"Harry," Hermione said, using her don't be an arse tone, "You remember Draco, don't you? He's the newest member on our research team." She eyed Harry, trying to decide if he was going to bolt out the door or not.

Harry stared intently at his tray, red creeping up his neck, and muttered, "I don't recall ordering the indigestion special for lunch."

"I see neither getting older nor an education has improved your manners, Potter," Draco drawled, his gaze running up and down Harry.

"Draco..." Hermione admonished. "You promised."

Harry waved his hand in the air, "Never mind, Hermione. Once a git always a git."

Hermione looked at Harry and forced back the smile that wanted to grow wide and all-encompassing. She recognized the tell-tale signs that Harry was uncomfortable.

Harry stood, picked up his tray and paused, "Next time you feel like a reunion, Hermione, invite someone who doesn't ruin my appetite."

Draco gave a barely audible moan, watching as Harry stalked away. "Brilliant, Granger. Just fucking brilliant."

"Actually it was," she said with a grin. "If he was really angry, he would have left without a word." She leaned closer to Draco. "Now we just have to figure out how to get you two together."

Draco shook his head and muttered, "I'm seriously beginning to wonder about your grip on reality." He looked up, his voice louder, "Are you joking? Did you see his face? He'd rather dance with a dragon than see me again."

Hermione winked. "What makes you think seeing you isn't just that?"

"And to think they called you the brightest witch of your age," Draco mumbled into his cup.

"Perhaps if you learn to think before you speak," Hermione said, with a glare that would wilt flowers, "Harry might not have rushed off like his trousers were on fire!"

"He insulted me," Draco whinged, looking like he wanted to stamp his feet on the ground in protest.

Hermione laughed. "Oh, Draco, what are you? Eleven again? If I weren't so sure that you and Harry would be good for each other, I'd change my mind about helping you seduce him." She wiped tears from her eyes.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Draco leaned back in his chair. "Are you quite finished?"

A tiny giggle escaped her lips as she nodded. "Oh my," Hermione said, trying to catch her breath, "but that look..."

"Give it up, Granger," Draco said.

Hermione stared, perplexed. "Give what up?"

"Your feeble attempt at pretending you're sorry you laughed at me," Draco said with a slight grin.

Hermione's laughter rang through the cafeteria and soon she and Draco were chatting about their latest research project as they finished their meal.

Harry stormed back to his office, slamming the door shut behind him. Flopping gracelessly onto the couch, he rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. Draco fucking Malfoy. The bane of his existence and the cock-hardening star of his dreams. What the fuck was Hermione thinking?

A knock on his door brought Harry back from his musings. "Yes?" Harry called out.

Opening the door a crack, he was greeted by the face of his competent nurse and good friend, Katie Bell. "Lavender Smith is here with the terrible twosome," Katie said with an apologetic look.

"Oh perfect," Harry blurted out. "Why didn't you warn me before lunch? I'd have stayed away longer, in the hope that she'd get tired of waiting."

Katie smiled, holding the door open for Harry. "What?" she said, rolling her eyes, "and pass up an opportunity for Lavender to fawn over you while her twins destroy the examination room?"

Glancing back at Katie over his shoulder, Harry laughed. "Why, Nurse Bell! How very unsympathetic of you!"

After Lavender and her ' evil spawn', as Katie liked to call them, were gone, Harry spent the remainder of his afternoon passing from examination room to examination room, looking at swollen tonsils, listening to mothers complain about their unappreciative children, and listening to enough congested chests to last a lifetime.

Just as he thought he'd finished for the day, Mrs Silsbury arrived. She was pale and her brow was furrowed in concern. "I don't have an appointment, Healer Potter, but I'm hoping you can see me. I'm still having problems with my magic."

Katie moved to shoo her away to make an appointment, when Harry touched her arm gently. "It's all right," he said softly. "I'll see her, shouldn't take but a minute."

Katie huffed out loud as she led Mrs. Silsbury to the only clean examination room, muttering along the way. "Have a seat, Mrs. Silsbury, Healer Potter will be with you shortly," she said, her tone barely civil.

The lady burst into tears. "I don't mean to be a bother, I just...just..."

Shamefaced, Katie patted her on the hand in apology. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Silsbury. It's been a rather trying afternoon; however, my behaviour was abominable."

By the time Harry entered the examination room, Katie had completed her preliminary exam on the patient and was dictating her findings with a Quick-Quotes Quill to a hovering piece of parchment.

"So, Mrs. Silsbury, what brings you in today?" Harry barely resisted the urge to say again. The woman had been in his office complaining several times over the last three weeks. "Still not feeling up to par?" Harry pulled the parchment from the air and scanned it quickly. "Hmmm...so really not any new complaints than you had last week when you were in." Harry scratched his head. "I'm still inclined to believe, as I told you before, you are just under quite a bit of stress."

Mrs. Silsbury scoffed and began to protest.

Patting her hand sympathetically, Harry interrupted. "It's perfectly normal for you to feel tired and for your magic to respond to that. You have four children, three of them under the age of four." Harry gave a small laugh. "I'm tired just thinking about that!"

"But, Healer Potter," Mrs. Silsbury protested, "I've never had my magic fail me so often, even when I was down with the Wizard's Flu two years ago. It's quite unnerving to set the table, only to have your dishes crash to the floor outside the cabinet door."

Harry rummaged in his potions cabinet. "I'd like you to take this Calming Elixer," he said handing her a small box with four vials inside, "every other day for one week and then come back in next Wednesday and see me."

Taking the box in her hands, Mrs. Silsbury sighed. "Anything else?" she asked.

"Well, try to get as much rest as possible. Jenny is old enough to help with the twins; even she can chase after three-year-olds."

Mrs. Silsbury stiffened at the mention of her nearly eleven-year-old daughter. "Just because she is a Squib, there is no need to be derogatory!"

Harry looked confused. He shook his head and ran his hands slowly over his face. "I meant no disrespect, ma'am. I was simply implying that she is old enough to help you watch the twins. Nothing more."

"I'm sorry, Healer Potter," Mrs. Silsbury said, blushing deeply. "I tend to be a bit overprotective of her. Merlin only knows why she has never shown any signs of magic."

Harry nodded and walked to the door. Mrs. Silsbury's soft voice stopped him as he reached for the knob. "I really am sorry. You've always been so good to us. You're about the only one who doesn't treat Jenny any different than the other children."

It had been a long day and Harry wanted nothing more than to finish writing up his charts, go home, and collapse on his couch with a glass of wine, but he knew that being a Healer meant more than just providing for his patient's medical needs. Sometimes being a Healer required him to reassure his patients that they were doing the best they could for their families. And this appeared to be one of those times.

Sitting on the chair next to Mrs. Silsbury, Harry spent the next several minutes assuring her that she had done nothing to make her eldest daughter a Squib and that sometimes things like that just happened.

By the time Harry arrived home that evening, he was too tired to do anything but collapse on the couch. He considered Summoning a bottle of wine, but even that seemed to be too much trouble. Kicking off his shoes, Harry decided to close his eyes and take a short nap before he made dinner. Curling onto his side, he allowed his exhaustion to take over and he slid into a restless sleep.

Waking with a start, Harry sat up and groaned. What had started as a lovely nap had almost immediately turned into a dream starring none other than Draco Malfoy. Harry put his elbows on his knees, dropping his head into his hands. Malfoy! Not again. Harry hadn't dreamt about Malfoy in months and now, not only was he back in London, they were both on staff at St. Mungo's. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine. Harry barked out a laugh at quoting one of his favourite Muggle movies. His laughter, however, quickly turned to a moan as his prick throbbed, reminding him of his dreams.

Harry pressed his hand against his crotch, hoping that he could convince his erection to give it a rest. Unfortunately, no such luck. He tried thinking disgusting thoughts, Hagrid in a dress, Dumbledore in a dress — no strike that — he may have enjoyed that! "Shit," Harry yelled out. "Buggering, bloody hell! Damn Malfoy to the seven hells!" Harry stood and walked into the kitchen, intent on making dinner and ignoring his prick.

Unfortunately, his prick was not only throbbing, but the leaking tip had left a wet spot on the front of his trousers. Scowling, he put the casserole in the oven to warm and stomped off to the bathroom for a shower and to relieve himself of his problem.

Draco sat back in his cafeteria chair, stretching out his long legs. He rubbed his face slowly. He wanted to ask Hermione about how to approach Potter — no Harry — for a date, but he was really unsure how to broach the subject.

"Just ask me," Hermione said, smiling wide.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco replied.

Hermione leaned forward, placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. "And you, Draco Malfoy, are a big, fat liar."

Draco sat up, stunned, his eyes wide. "You did not just call me a big fat liar! I think you've been spending too much time around the ever-growing Weasley clan." Draco laughed out loud. "And I see your imagination is definitely working overtime."

"Draco," Hermione said firmly, "I've worked quite closely with you for several weeks now. You may not be the most open person, but I feel confident in saying that I can read most of your expressions. And right now you have that how do I bring this up look on your face."

Draco 's mouth opened in surprise.

"And that," Hermione teased, "is your how the hell does she do it look." She reached over and patted Draco's arm. "Don't worry your pretty head about how I do it. Just accept it."

Draco didn't know whether to be confused or furious. He finally decided he was more amused than anything else and grinned at the woman. He stacked his tray on top of Hermione's, grabbed them both and began walking to the exit, calling over his shoulder, "What? You didn't recognize my let's get the hell out of here look?

Hermione shook her head and followed him out the door.

They worked in relative silence when they returned to the lab. The curse they were researching was one that a misdirected group of faux Death Eaters had created sometime in the last few years, and it played havoc on the recipient's motor skills. Draco had been able to isolate one section of the curse and Hermione was working on the antidote to it.

"Am I really that easy to read?" Draco asked, hesitantly.

Hermione tilted her head thoughtfully. "Not so much to those who don't know you. But then again, not everyone has had my advantage."

"Your advantage?"

"Yes, advantage," Hermione said, turning to look at Draco speculatively. "I had the advantage of watching you for seven years at Hogwarts."

Draco moaned and rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious," she continued. "Harry wasn't the only one studying you at school." She paused to jot a note on the parchment in front of her. "Sometime during sixth year, it became obvious to me that you were struggling with a decision. I'd see you looking at Professor Dumbledore and then to Professor Snape. It was almost as if I could see the wheels turning in your head. I tried to get Harry to step back and look at the bigger picture, but he was too busy trying to work out what you were up to to see the subtle changes in your demeanour."

"Fat lot of good it did," Draco said, scowling. "Harry will never see me beyond the prat I was in school."

"Give him some time, Draco," Hermione's voice was soft. "At the end, he realized why you'd done the things you did. He recognized the difficult decisions you had to make regarding your family and the things you believed in. Harry just isn't really good at expressing his emotions, and he's really not sure what to do about how he feels about you. Maybe you could be more encouraging."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and grimaced, as if her thoughts were confusing, difficult to express. She ran a hand idly through her bushy hair and looked unsure. "You're not that different, you know."

Draco tilted his head, his forehead furrowed. "Who's not that different?" he asked.

"You and Harry," she replied.

Hermione bit on her lower lip and Draco wondered if she was afraid to continue or if she was waiting for him to explode in anger. Draco took a deep, silent breath. "Just how do you figure that?" he queried. "Because from where I'm standing, the Golden Boy of the Wizarding World and the son of the Dark Lord's right-hand man are worlds apart."

"Neither of you see yourselves as I do." Hermione's voice was soft, but her tone was fierce. "You see Harry as the Golden Boy, raised by hateful Muggles, and yet the epitome of goodness. I see him as Harry, the person who overcame great odds to be a loyal and fierce friend." She paused, looking at Draco for a moment before continuing, "And I see you as very much the same. You may not have had to live with Muggles, but you overturned a lifetime of teachings and in the end you chose your own path."

Draco stared at Hermione. "You think I'm a fierce and loyal friend? How would you know?"

"I was at the trials after the war, Draco." She began to pace. "I heard the things you said about Pansy Parkinson and Gregory Goyle. I saw how you defended them." Stopping, Hermione turned to look directly at Draco. "And so did Harry. Loyalty and defending your friends are very important to him. Don't ever forget that."

"Is this some secret code you're trying to teach me?" Draco asked, scratching his head. "Because I'm not sure I understand."

Hermione walked over to their shared research desk, stopped and smiled. "You will. When the time is right, you will."

Draco groaned. "You know I hate it when you go all Trelawney on me."

Sitting down at the desk Hermione scowled, pulled out her notes, and jotted some words down while she looked at the test tube in front of her. "That, Draco Malfoy, might just be one of the cruellest things you've ever said to me." Her scowl wavered for a moment before she lost all control and laughed out loud.

Pulling up his chair next to her, Draco nudged her with his shoulder. They fell back into their working relationship, with Draco dictating their findings as Hermione made the proper notes in a journal, until it was time to stop for the evening.

The next several weeks passed quickly for Harry. His practice was so busy that there was never a chance to meet up with Hermione for lunch again. Harry wasn't sure if that was good or bad but during the day he really didn't have time to give it much thought. His nights, unfortunately, were a different matter, and Malfoy invaded his dreams more often than he cared to admit.

Often he didn't even have the time to transcribe his dictation onto a patient chart, so when Katie threatened to lock him in the office for the weekend if he didn't get caught up soon, Harry gave up his Friday off to get the transcription completed.

Harry was more than halfway through the pile of charts when it occurred to him that he had written nearly the same thing three times for different patients. He reached over to the pile of completed charts and thumbed through them, pulling out the ones he recalled as being similar. Harry's brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed as he read Patient complains of tiredness and random loss of magical abilities on all three charts. He set them aside and continued to transcribe the remainder of the pile.

Rubbing his hands over his face, Harry looked again at the charts he had set to one side. By the time he was finished, there were five charts in the pile. How is it that five unrelated women have come in recently, with nearly identical complaints? He massaged his temples, thinking. He sat up as a thought struck him. "Maybe I accidently copied the last patients' notes and set them in the chart," he said to the empty room. Harry sighed, knowing it was a long shot.

Taking the charts with him, Harry went to the main appointment book. He opened it and checked to see if any of the five women had appointments on the same day. His movements became frantic when he realised they hadn't, and he'd definitely transcribed the notes correctly. He was just about to close the book when it suddenly occurred to him that these were the same symptoms that Mrs Silsbury had been complaining about for months.

"Accio Lynette Silsbury's chart." He reached out his hand and grabbed the file out of the air and looked inside. Sitting back with a sigh, he closed the file and placed it on the top of the other charts. "What in the hell is going on here?" Harry muttered to himself.

Picking up the stack of charts, Harry went into his office and closed the door. Sitting down at his desk, he reached for a quill and parchment and drew a chart, writing each of the six women's names across the top. Starting with Mrs. Silsbury, he jotted down the dates she had been in and her complaints for each of her visits, along with pertinent family information. One by one, he went through each chart and wrote the corresponding information down for each woman, looking for a common thread — something that connected them, other than their complaints.

He finished the chart, set the quill on the desk, and scratched his head. Six seemingly unrelated women, yet each of them complaining about basically the same thing. It didn't make any sense. They didn't live in the same areas of town, nor did any of their husbands work together. Harry yawned and he wished Katie was working so that there would be a large pot of coffee in the staff room. He contemplated heading to the cafeteria when a familiar voice called out.

"Harry?" Hermione said.

"In my office," he called back. "If you have coffee with you, I'll love you forever."

Hermione was laughing as she opened the door. "All those years of putting up with you in school and now you're willing to sell yourself into friendship for a cup of coffee?" She walked around the desk, bent down and kissed Harry on the cheek. She glanced at the papers on his desk, "What's all this?"

Hurriedly shoving the papers together, Harry replied, "Nothing I'm ready to talk about. Just a few things that seem to be a bit too coincidental, so I'm trying to see if I'm overreacting before I discuss it." Linking his arm through hers, Harry pulled her towards the door. "Let's run over to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee. I think I can spare of few minutes to catch up on your life."

"I'll let you get away with that for now," Hermione said sharply. "But only if you promise to tell me if you find anything interesting."

"Deal," Harry answered, closing the door to the office. Joking and laughing as they left, neither of them noticed that it didn't quite latch shut.

Draco pounded on the outer door to Harry's clinic. "Where the hell are they?" he muttered, pounding again. "Hermione said she'd be here."

He had waited in the lab for over an hour after lunch for Hermione to return from catching up with Harry. "For the love of Merlin," Draco said. He tried the knob and finding it unlocked he went inside the dark outer office, listening for voices. "Hermione? Potter?" he called out. No reply.

He followed a thin strip of light shining from a door that was open just a crack. Draco pushed the door open and peeked in the room. "Empty," he said to himself. "How typical for Potter's desk to be a disaster." Deciding to wait for a few minutes to see if Hermione and Harry would return, Draco perched himself on the edge of the desk, crossed his arms, and stared around the room.

The minutes ticked by in silence and very quickly, Draco was bored. His gaze fell to the papers that were haphazardly bunched together. The corner of a parchment with handwriting stuck out from between patient charts and the words what is the connection? leapt off the paper at him. Pulling it out of the stack, Draco read aloud to himself, "Patients have all complained for several weeks about loss of magic — no substantial losses — minor spells mostly, but major spells appear weak as well."

Draco moved from the edge of the desk to Harry's chair, clearing a space on the desk as he sat. "How in the world does he work in this mess?" he muttered, rummaging through the desk for a clean piece of parchment. He read what Harry had written, jotting notes to himself on the fresh parchment.

Harry and Hermione strolled casually back from the cafeteria. "Thanks for dragging me away, Hermione," Harry said, smiling widely. "We really needed to catch up."

Patting his arm tenderly, Hermione smiled. "You know I won't allow us to get so wrapped up in our lives and careers that we can't spend some time together every so often. But next time I expect a real meal — not one served on a tray from the cafeteria!"

Her tone was reprimanding but her eyes twinkled as she spoke, and Harry remembered what a fierce friend she had been since the beginning.

Looking down the hall, Harry stopped. "Hermione?" Harry asked, uncertainty causing his voice to waver. "Did we leave the office door open?"

Turning to look down the hall herself, Hermione shook her head. "I'm sure we closed the door behind us."

Drawing his wand, Harry quickly covered the space from where they had stopped to the clinic door. He entered cautiously and moved silently to the door of his office and looked inside. "What the hell are you doing?" Harry called out.

Draco glanced up, saw who it was and immediately returned to reading.

Harry rounded his desk, Hermione right behind him. "Draco!" she admonished. "What in the world are you doing? Are you reading Harry's private papers?"

"You know you have something quite interesting here, right, Potter?" Draco said, seemingly oblivious to the two angry faces staring at him. "What?"

"Give me that," Harry said through clenched teeth, trying to snatch the parchment out of Draco's hand. "This is none of your business."

"Potter," Draco snarled, "even you can see that these women are connected!" Draco ran the quill thoughtfully along his jawline. "I just can't find what the connection is."

"That still gives you absolutely no right to pry into private papers on my desk!" Harry growled, running his hand through his hair. He turned towards Hermione. "You know I'm right!" he said to her.

"Harry, calm down," Hermione said, in a tone that gave him no room to argue. "While I don't agree with the method Draco used, maybe he can help." She glared at Draco.

Shrugging his shoulders, Draco rolled his eyes. "If you didn't want anyone to see it," he sneered, "you shouldn't have left it out in the open for just anyone to stroll along and take a look."

"Wha—?" Harry shook his head in disbelief. "You are not going to turn this around on me. In the first place, what the hell are you doing in my office? And in the second place, what the hell made you think it was acceptable for you to root around on my desk? What were you hoping to find?"

Draco sat back in Harry's chair, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Done with your tantrum, Potter?"

Hermione placed her hand on Harry's arm and he scowled in reply to them both.

"I'm in your office because Hermione told me she was coming down for a quick lunch break. When some information arrived that we'd been waiting for, I decided to locate her." Draco looked annoyed at Hermione. "As far as acceptable behaviour, I will admit this caught my attention, and as the pieces of a puzzle tumbled off the parchment, I found myself caught up in said puzzle, or at least attempting to identify the missing pieces."

Harry paused, processing Draco's comments. He looked between Draco and Hermione before moving to stand next to Draco. "Why would this matter to you?" he asked quietly.

"This is what I do, Potter," Draco said, closing his eyes in apparent exasperation.

"Paw through other people's private papers?" Harry growled.

Hermione gasped. "Harry! That was completely uncalled for. Draco's research speciality is epidemiology. You might do yourself and your patients a favour by listening to what he has to say."

Harry gave a curt nod and crossed his arms, waiting for Draco to go on.

"There has to be a connection, something that links all these women," Draco said.

"No? Really?" Harry mocked. "I hadn't considered that at all."

Draco stood quickly, the desk chair sliding back into the wall. "Whatever, Potter. I'll just leave the Golden Boy to save the wizarding world again." He turned to Hermione. "I'll be in the lab when you feel the urge to work again."

Hermione drew her wand and waved it, murmuring an incantation, and the office door slammed shut. She placed her hands on her hips. "I honestly have no idea what is going on here," she snapped, "but I'll tell you this, Harry...if whatever you have on your precious parchment has caught Draco's eye, you can bet that there is something to your suspicions. So stop being a pretentious arse; it does not suit you."

She conjured a chair next to the one Draco had sat back down on and gestured for Harry to sit. "Now start at the beginning and tell us what you think you've found."

Harry started slowly, "Mrs. Silsbury has been in several times in the past few weeks with repeated complaints about her magic feeling off. She really didn't have any other symptoms, and because there has been a fairly virulent strain of flu around, each time I attributed her complaints to stress and sent her on her way with a Calming Elixer." Harry felt his face flush in embarrassment.

Draco nodded, jotting notes on the parchment. "Seems like a logical thought progression, given the lack of other symptoms and the number of children she has."

Harry sighed.

"Well come on," Draco said, "no one can have that many children and not have some stress related magic problems."

Harry started to protest, but was immediately cut off by Hermione's voice. "Save the demeaning commentary, Draco, and let Harry continue."

"Today I was getting caught up on my chart transcription," Harry continued, "and it occurred to me that I had written the same thing several times. At first I thought maybe I had notes on the wrong charts or had confused visit dates. But a quick check of the schedule cleared that up. I thought I saw a pattern of sorts. So I made that chart. Hermione came in and we took a break — which leads us to finding you in here."

Draco's eyes narrowed and he ran his fingers over his chin, his slight afternoon beard causing a scratching noise that made Harry moan silently. Setting his quill down, Draco looked over Harry's chart, tapping the paper with his finger. "Something's not right. We're missing a piece to the puzzle."

"I wrote down everything I could think of," Harry said, leaning over the desk to look at the parchment.

"I'm sure you did." Draco gave Harry a reassuring smile. "No, this will be something that is much more specific than a few complaints."

When Draco reached for one of the patient charts, Hermione interrupted with a soft cough. "Draco, we need to get back upstairs to the lab."

Looking at the clock, Draco moaned. "Oh hell, we've been gone for over two hours." He stood quickly and rounded the desk.

"Harry?" Draco said hesitantly, "I need a couple of hours to finish up this part of our project. Then I could come back down and we could go through the charts together, if you're okay with that."

"Yeah," Harry said, looking up at Draco in surprise at the use of his name. "I'll see if anything else comes to my mind about these women."

Hermione kissed Harry on the cheek and whispered, "See? Not so bad after all."

Harry waved her off and rolled his eyes. He listened as Draco and Hermione left the room, discussing the research they had left in the lab, and Harry wondered how Draco could switch between projects so effortlessly. Harry placed his elbows on his desk, his chin in his hands and enjoyed the view of Draco's arse as he left.

Later Harry was taking a break from the charts. He was leaning back in his chair, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand, when Draco came bursting through the door. Draco looked at Harry and stopped, a smile tugging at his lips.

"You look comfortable," Draco teased. "I hope these aren't all for you," he said, grabbing a sandwich. "I could eat a Troll."

Harry shuddered. "I've been close to a Troll; you do not want to eat one of them."

Draco choked on his sandwich; grabbing the cup off Harry's desk, he took a large gulp.

"Damn, Potter, trying to kill me already?" Draco panted. He looked at the cup in his hand. "What the hell was in this?"

"Lemonade," Harry said, laughing. "It's been sitting there for a while, so I imagine it was a bit warm."

Draco made a face. "You do not want to know what it tasted like." He made a show of wiping his mouth, leaving his lips pink and full.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off them or stop his brain from imagining the things he'd like those lips to be doing to him and his lost himself in those thoughts.

"Potter!" Draco shouted, in an attempt to get Harry's attention.

Harry blushed, realizing he had been fantasizing about Draco's mouth for who knew how long. "Sorry," he mumbled, "lost my train of thought."

"Are you quite all right?"

With a quick nod, Harry slipped back into his professional role and began talking about the case. "I looked through all the charts again and listed anything I thought might be pertinent."

Draco smirked, leaning in to see what Harry had added to the list. "Do you mind if I go through the charts and see if I can find any potential links?" Harry gripped the charts tightly, pursed his lips, and let out a slow, audible breath. "Sometimes a fresh eye can spot something new," continued Draco.

Harry loosened his grip and handed Draco the stack of charts, sitting back to watch him work. He was soon caught up in watching Draco as he skimmed each chart, making notes without even looking at what he was writing.

Occasionally Draco would pause, look back through another file, and make a note next to something he had written previously. After about an hour, Harry stood and started wandering around his office, not quite sure what to do with himself while Draco was working on the charts.

Draco set the quill on the desk and rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "Is there something wrong, Potter?"

Harry looked embarrassed. "I'm not really sure what I should be up to while you're working," he said flatly.

"Well, I can guarantee that pacing is not it. It's distracting."

Harry watched as Draco struggled with what he apparently wanted to say next.

"Harry?" Draco asked, running his fingers across his forehead.

"Yes," Harry said, his words clipped and his tone snippy. He felt fairly certain if Draco was calling him Harry he not going to like whatever it was Draco had in mind.

"What are the chances of me taking the charts home with me to work on tonight?" Draco asked, hesitantly.

"Are you crazy?!" Harry shouted. "Do you have any idea how much trouble I'd be in if I let you remove them from my office?"

Draco tried to talk, only to be cut off by Harry again. "Why would you want to remove them from the office? Are you insane?"

"Good god, Potter," Draco drawled. "Could you lower the decibel level of your screeching? If I wanted to be screeched at, I'd have stayed with Parkinson."

Harry glared at Draco. "I don't care if you feel the need to read every chart in my office from start to finish; you are not removing one thing from here."

Draco looked around the cramped office. "Well I can't work like this. I need to be able to spread things out."

Harry picked up the charts and the parchments from the desk and handed them to Draco. "Hold those for a minute, I have an idea." Harry waved his wand and muttered an incantation and his desk changed into a medium sized worktable with two comfortable looking chairs. Turning slightly, Harry waved his wand again and the two chairs he used for conferences morphed into a coffee table in front of the couch.

Harry took the charts from Draco and placed them on the worktable, smirking at Draco's bemused look. "If we're going to be here all night, we might as well be comfortable." Harry went to the couch, plopped onto it and set his feet on the coffee table. "And since I'm not going to be working all night," he said grinning, "I might as well be comfortable."

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry, sat down at the worktable and opened a file. He worked for nearly an hour, jotting notes and mumbling as he went along, without so much as a glance at Harry.

Finally closing the last file, Draco sat back in the chair and stretched, arching his back. His shirt rose slightly above his waistband.

Harry stared, mesmerized by the pale strip of skin the movement revealed.

"Enjoying the view?" Draco drawled.

Harry's face turned scarlet. "Of you? Please!" Harry said, a bit more breathily than he would have preferred.

Draco laughed and moved to sit next to Harry on the couch. He put the parchments on the table and nudged Harry's shoulder. "I'm starving. You should go and get some takeaway for us to eat," Draco said.

"Me? Who put you in charge?" Harry asked.

Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry. "I'm here, helping you with your problem. The least you could do is feed me."

"I didn't ask for your help," Harry retorted. "You offered it. Actually you stuck your nose in where it didn't belong and forced your way in."

"Fine," Draco said with a huff. "I'll just go then and let you work this out on your own."

Harry panicked when Draco stood to leave. "Don't," Harry said, as he pulled a bit too forcefully on Draco's arm, causing him to land on Harry's lap.

"Oof," Draco blurted as he fell. Harry looked down at Draco. He was close enough to see each pale lash as Draco's eyes fluttered against his cheeks. "I should move," Draco said quietly.

"Yes," Harry whispered, his head lowering towards Draco's. He could feel Draco's breath on his face. Harry closed his eyes, their lips nearly touching.

"Harry? Draco?" called a voice from the waiting room.

Harry sat up quickly, pushing Draco away from him. "It's Hermione. Get up before she thinks we're up to something."

"We might be up to something if she'd not interrupted," Draco groused as he straightened himself on the couch.

"In here, Hermione," Harry called out. "Come on in."

Hermione came into Harry's office, carrying a large brown paper bag that smelled vaguely of curry and other aromatic spices. Draco jumped up and pulled the bag out of Hermione's hands.

"Oh, if that's vindaloo I smell, I'll be yours eternally." Draco called over his shoulder, carrying the bag back to the table.

"Oh goodness," Hermione said in a mocking tone, "a love you forever and a yours eternally all in one day. How lucky can one girl get? Too bad they both revolved around food."

Harry gave Hermione a hug. "Thanks, you're a life-saver," he said, stealing a glance at Draco.

"Did I miss something?" Hermione's brow furrowed when she saw Harry's glance. "Or am I interrupting something?"

"No, no, nothing," Harry replied, far too quickly to be convincing.

At the same time Draco mumbled, "Might have if you'd have been a few minutes later." Then he smiled at Hermione and said louder, "Just taking a few minutes break; your timing was impeccable."

"Well, I'll be off then. I just wanted to be sure you two didn't starve. I know how you both get wrapped up in what you're doing and forget to come up for air."

Harry grabbed Hermione by the arm. "Don't go; you don't have to go. Stay. Eat with us." His voice was elevated and a bit panicky.

Staring at Harry, Hermione pulled away from his grip. "What in the world is wrong with you? You're acting quite odd. Go," she said shooing Harry towards the couch, "sit with Draco and enjoy the food. Then you can work together as long as you need."

"Hermione," Harry said, "stay."

"No, Harry, I can't," she replied, "I have a date with Charlie." Hermione leaned over and whispered conspiratorially in Harry's ear, "He doesn't bite, you know."

"I hope you're right," Harry muttered, watching Hermione leave.

"Christ, Potter," Draco said his voice dripping with disdain, "I'm not going to molest you. You can lose the paranoid act. I'm going to the lav; when I get back let's just get back to work."

Harry watched Draco leave the room, rubbed his forehead with his fingers and said softly, "Wasn't you losing control I was worried about."

Draco and Harry ate their dinner in silence, tension surrounding them like fog. The sound of forks scraping against the plates Harry had conjured was the only thing breaking the silence. Harry finished his Tandoori Chicken and stretched to put the container on the table, his knee brushing against Draco's leg.

The bump on his leg caused Draco to chance a look at Harry. "This is ridiculous," Draco muttered. "Harry," he said softly, "you have a bit of sauce on your face."

Harry's eyes shifted to the bottom of his sockets and his eyebrows rose, as he attempted to see the supposed food on his face. "I can't see it," he said crossly.

"It's here," Draco said, reaching over and gently touching Harry's cheek.

His head turning instinctively towards Draco's finger, Harry gasped when the tip of Draco's finger slid onto his lip. Harry's gaze locked with Draco's and when Draco started to pull his hand back, Harry grabbed his wrist and held him still. "Oh Merlin," Harry murmured, his eyes now staring at Draco's lips while they moved closer together.

Their lips touched, tentatively at first, softly pressing together — Harry still holding onto Draco's wrist. Harry stopped. "Is this, I mean are you okay?"

"Are you daft? I've been trying to figure out a way to ask you out for weeks but I thought you didn't want to be around me," Draco replied.

"I didn't," he said. "But only because I wanted to do this."

Harry covered Draco's mouth, his tongue slowly caressed Draco's bottom lip, causing the blond to shudder from what Harry hoped was desire matching his own. Draco responded by parting his lips and Harry was lost. His tongue delved inside and the once timid kiss became heated. Harry shifted, pressing Draco back onto the couch. He heard a needy moan and for once, didn't care which of them it was coming from. He needed this, needed Draco.

Harry moved so he was lying on top of Draco, their erections nestled next to each other. Draco sighed and Harry took the opportunity to press his hips down against Draco's, twisting slightly and rubbing his prick along-side Draco's. The friction was delicious and frustrating and gods if he didn't come soon, Harry was going to explode. Draco nipped at the tender flesh behind Harry's ear, and then laved his tongue over the tender skin. When he drew Harry's Adam's apple into his mouth and sucked, Harry bucked hard against Draco, his orgasm spurting inside his trousers. Draco stiffened beneath him and Harry felt Draco's prick pulsing through the thin fabric of Draco's linen trousers.

Moving slightly, Harry shifted Draco onto his side. He cast a quick Cleansing Charm over them both and slid onto the couch behind Draco. He felt Draco shift and heard his breathing become steady. Harry's voice ghosted over Draco's ear. "Don't fall asleep. We still have lots of work to do."

"Mmmm...can't move," Draco replied.

Pulling Draco closer, Harry hummed his reply against the back of Draco's neck. They lay still for several minutes, until Harry pulled Draco's shirt out of his trousers. He splayed his hand across the firm abdomen and traced circles around Draco's navel with his thumb.

Draco flinched. "Stop...tickles," Draco said, placing his hand against Harry's to still its movements and sat up. "You might as well get up too, we really do need to look over these charts some more."

Harry groaned his displeasure, but sat up anyway. "I hate it when you're right, you know that don't you?"

"Yes, but something is going on here and we need to focus." Draco said, running a hand through his hair. "There has to be a cohesive factor, one we aren't seeing."

"Let's start with the top chart and run down our list of known facts," Harry said, yawning as he spoke. "I need coffee. Don't suppose you feel like wandering to the cafeteria for some, do you?"

"Do I look like a house-elf?" Draco retorted.

Harry sighed as he left the room. He returned a few minutes later, handing Draco a steaming mug of coffee. Harry wrapped his hands around his own cup and raised it to his lips, like it was the nectar from the gods. "Perfect," he moaned.

Draco sat next to him and pulled a chart off the pile and began reviewing it. Harry pushed the file so it was flat on the table and moved closer to Draco so they could read it together. Draco paused. He flipped to a different part of the chart, then back to the current page. He did this several times, until Harry finally slammed his hand down on the chart.

"What in the name of Merlin's frilly pants are you looking at? You've flipped between the same three pages for the last ten minutes." Harry complained.

Draco looked at Harry as if he didn't know him. "What?"

"You keep looking at the same three pages," Harry repeated. "What's so fascinating about them?"

Draco's gaze shifted between Harry and the chart. "How many children do these women have?" he asked.

"Each one?" Harry asked, clearly confused.

"Well," Draco pondered Harry's question. "Do they all have more than one?"

"Mrs. Silsbury has four; Mrs. Carrick, Mrs. Titmuss and Mrs. Bipsom all have two; Mrs. Leatherby has three; and Mrs. Howell has five," Harry replied.

"So that's not it," Draco said, more to himself than Harry. He looked at Mrs. Bipsom's chart and turned to Harry. "Who has the oldest child?"

Harry thought for a few minutes, and then his eyes grew wide. "They all have ten-year-olds." He gave an involuntary shudder. "Draco, all of their oldest children are Squibs."

"Fuck," Draco said with a sigh. "Six women, unrelated, all with ten-year old children, all of whom happen to be Squibs? What do you think the chances of that happening are? But... something is still missing here."

Draco made a list of all of the women and the dates their first child was born. "Harry, look," Draco said. "They were all born within a few months of each other, all in the late spring or early summer."

Soon they had all six charts spread open across the table. Draco turned Mrs. Bipsom's chart to the entries about her pregnancy and read intently, jotting notes as he went along.

"Harry?" Draco pointed at an entry in the chart. "What is MEP? Some kind of pregnancy vitamin?"

"I've never heard of it before." Harry flipped through Mrs. Titmuss' chart and found the same notation at the end of every visit's entry. "I have the same entries here, but the number at the end changes with each visit."

Draco and Harry each reached for another file, their hands bumping across the table. Harry smiled and gave Draco a quick peck on the lips. "All I dare for now," he said, blushing. "Any more than that and we might find out how sturdy this couch really is."

Draco hesitated, and then leaned against Harry's shoulder while he read the next chart. When they were finished, they had a list for each woman, with the dates of her maternity visits and the strange coding.

"I need to talk to these women," Draco said.

Harry ran his hand along the side of his face. "I'm not sure they'd talk to you. Patients can be funny about discussing their medical history with other Healers."

"Good point," Draco said, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Tomorrow is Saturday; maybe you can get them to come into the office to talk. We need to find out what they remember about this potion they were given."

"What about the fact that they all have a Squib as their first-born?" Harry wondered. "That seems a bit odd. I wonder if it's related to the potion they were given?"

Draco paled. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing really, just rambling," Harry said, confused by Draco's tone.

"No, seriously," Draco pressed. "What did you just say?"

"I said," Harry tried to recall his exact words, "I wonder if the fact that their first-born children are all Squibs is related to the potion they were given?"

Draco closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. "There's something familiar about Squibs and potions..."

"Are you all right?" Harry asked, his voice filled with concern.

"Hmm?" Draco opened his eyes. Harry was chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes wide. "I'm fine. Really. I just need to sleep. I should go home."

Harry took a deep breath. "You could come home with me."

Draco smiled at Harry. "As brilliant as that sounds, I really am knackered." He pulled Harry close and ran his nose against Harry's jawline. "Just hold that thought for another night when we're both well-rested, because when I get you in a bed, you'll need all your strength."

Harry leaned into Draco's embrace and tilted his head back, an open invitation for Draco to continue. Draco nipped on Harry's earlobe before moving to cover Harry's mouth with his own. They enjoyed a long, leisurely kiss, before Draco pulled back.

"I'm totally appalled with myself for what I'm about to say," Draco said, keeping his tone light, "but I need to go home."

Harry's smile faded. "Did I do something wrong?"

Draco shifted and Harry could feel Draco's erection against his hip. "Does that feel like you've done anything wrong?" Draco whispered against Harry's neck. "If I don't go now, I'll not go at all tonight."

"That I understand," Harry chuckled. He pulled back. "Tomorrow I'll start contacting the women and see what they can remember. See if any more flags go up."

Draco nodded, looking uncertain. "I've got a few things that I want to check out in some old books. I'll let you know if I find anything." He leaned in for a final kiss before leaving Harry's office.

It took Harry nearly a week to talk to all the women and discuss their pregnancies of nearly eleven years ago. He'd tried to keep it casual, but in the end he had decided to tell them he was researching something he hoped would help their magical loss.

Harry met Draco for lunch in the cafeteria the day he finished his last interview. "All of them felt that their pregnancies progressed the same as their other ones," Harry said, "the only difference being the rest of their children have normal magical abilities."

Draco listened closely to everything Harry had to say, jotting notes on a parchment. "Did you ask them about receiving any different potions during their first pregnancies?"

"As a matter of fact," Harry said, with a nod, "all of them recalled a nurse who came in either at the beginning or the end of their visits and gave them a potion to drink. None of them could remember if they were told what it was, only that their Healer had prescribed it."

"Fuck," Draco said, his fork slipping out of his fingers and falling to the floor.

Harry looked at Draco. "What?"

"Not here," Draco replied. "Tonight, my flat. I need to talk to you about something. I have a feeling it's related to all of this."

"Draco," Harry protested, "what is it?"

"No," Draco said, pursing his lips. "I said tonight at my flat." He rested his hand on Harry's forearm and rubbed his thumb gently across the soft skin. "Relax, Potter, it's not like I plan to lure you to my flat and attempt to turn you to the dark side." Draco jotted his address on a napkin and put it in Harry's hand.

"Although I may attempt other things, once you're there. Half seven, all right?"

"Sure, half seven is fine. And by the way, I'd be quite disappointed if you didn't try something," Harry replied softly. He nodded as he stood and walked out of the cafeteria, confident that Draco was staring at his arse.

Harry stepped out of the Floo in the entryway of Draco's flat, pleased that for once he had managed keep his balance. He looked around the room.

"Wow," Harry said, sounding surprised, "I really expected you to be neater." There was not a flat surface that was not covered by an open book or four. Even the kitchen sink had several thick tomes resting precariously around its edges.

Draco looked around the room, as if it were the first time he noticed the mess. "Oh," he said, with a shrug. "Research material. I tend to be a bit extreme when I'm working on something. I've found it's easier to recall things when you leave the book open and on the page you need."

Harry walked over to the table and his skin prickled when he immediately recognized the handwriting on the open ledger. There was only one man he know who wrote like that. Harry looked up, his eyes clouded with confusion and when he spoke, his voice was shaking. "This belongs...belonged to Snape. Where did you get it?"

Meeting Harry's gaze, Draco spoke quietly. "Not many people knew that Severus was my godfather. When he...died," Draco's voice broke, "I was listed as his heir. I inherited everything he owned. His house in Spinner's End was crammed full of books and journals, not to mention the things that were left at Hogwarts."

Harry was dumbfounded. "What? Uh, is it all still there? Aren't you worried about it being ruined or worse?"

"The summer before I left to become a Healer, I had everything moved from Spinner's End and Hogwarts to a suite of rooms at Malfoy Manor. Merlin knows that there are plenty of empty rooms there. And with my father dead, I really don't have to worry about anything. Mother is far too busy with her charity work and spending money to be concerned with me or anything I choose to store there."

Harry started to speak, but Draco cut him off. "What I need to tell you is difficult. I really need you to just listen right now." He placed a hand on Harry's back and moved him towards a room off the main living room. "Sit, I'll get you a brandy. You'll likely need it before I'm finished."

Sitting stiffly on the edge of a chair, Harry accepted the offered drink, and began twirling the amber liquid around the snifter.

Taking a deep breath, Draco began. "Do you remember what you said the other night?"

"Is that rhetorical or are you expecting an answer, because if you want a reply, you're going to have to be a bit clearer — we've spent quite a few evenings together and said many things."

"Rhetorical for the most part." Draco took a sip of his drink. "You said, "I wonder if the fact that their first-born children are all Squibs is related to the potion they were given?"

"Okay," said Harry. "So I was thinking out loud."

"Well," Draco continued, "it also made me think. For some reason it stuck with me and I couldn't get it out of my head. Then last night I had a dream that triggered a conversation I heard years ago."

"My father and Severus were talking. Because I was nearly old enough to take the Dark Mark, and at the time there was no doubt where my loyalties were, they would talk freely even if I was around." Draco paused to look at Harry.

"This particular night, they had just returned from one of Volde....his calls. Severus was telling my Father that it, whatever it was, was impossible. That even if such a potion existed, it would be impossible to distribute. My father told Severus that he was simply not talented enough to invent such a potion and that the Dark Lord would find someone who could."

"What kind of potion?" Harry said quietly.

"The same question I asked my father after Severus left," Draco said. "My father turned proudly and said 'The Dark Lord has determined a way to prevent any more Mudbloods from being born.'. He wouldn't elaborate other than to say that it was a brilliant plan to rid the world of Mudbloods once and for all."

Harry sat very still, staring into his snifter, twirling it so the liquid inside coated the glass before sliding back to the bottom. He finally looked up at Draco. "You think Severus successfully created this potion for Voldemort, don't you?"

Draco stood and moved to lean against the mantle. "In a way, yes. Now that we know that Severus Snape was operating as a spy for both sides, I don't believe he would have done that. I think, at least I hope, that he was able to produce a potion that would work well enough to placate the Dark Lord."

Harry looked at Draco. "This is what you've been doing, isn't it? You've been going through Severus' journals trying to find anything about this." He stood up excitedly. "Did you find an antidote?"

"Harry, Severus had hundreds of journals." Draco said. "I only brought over a few to look through. It could take years to go through them all and even then we don't have any idea if it's even there to be found."

"This is Severus Snape we're talking about, Draco," Harry said. "The man was nothing if not predictable and organized when it came to his potions."

"Harry, it's not like I moved everything over to the Manor exactly as it was inside his house."

Harry laughed. "I wouldn't have expected you to, but I'm guessing you didn't bother to unpack any of the trunks, correct?"

Draco nodded.

"Well, it would stand to reason that Snape wouldn't risk any antidote journals being found by Voldemort or someone like ...."

"My father," Draco replied flatly.

"I was thinking of your crazy Aunt Bellatrix," Harry chuckled. "But yeah, your father is another distinct possibility."

"So," Draco said, "the way I see it is we need to spend some time at the Manor, looking through Severus' things."

Harry shrugged. "It probably would be good to get started right away."

Draco moved behind Harry, pulling him close against his chest, resting his chin on Harry's shoulder. "Unless I can convince you otherwise."

"Well," Harry said breathily as Draco nuzzled into the hair behind his ear, "Going to the Manor to start looking through his things would be the sensible thing to do."

"Harry," Draco's lips nearly touching Harry's neck. "No one will move anything in the Manor tonight."

"Okay," Harry said with a sigh.

"Everything be in the exact same place tomorrow morning. Sunday morning, I might remind you."

"Yes, but don't you want to get started?" Harry said, trying not to moan.

Draco pressed forward with his hips, his prick pressing in the cleft of Harry's arse. "Yes, I want to get started," Draco said, thrusting forward enough to elicit a moan from Harry.

"But the journals," Harry protested weakly.

"Will be there tomorrow," Draco said pressing harder against Harry for emphasis, "this on the other hand, is demanding attention tonight."

Giving up all pretence of resisting, Harry melted back against Draco, his left arm stretching up to hold Draco close to his neck. Draco teased, biting gently on Harry's neck, and then laving the tender flesh with his tongue. Draco knew Harry's calm was close to shattering when he felt Harry turning in his grasp.

"Bed. Now," was the only thing Harry said before he covered Draco's lips with his own. Draco ground his erection into Harry's hip. When he was rewarded with a gasp, Draco slid his tongue inside Harry's mouth. He tasted of the brandy they had drunk before, with an underlying hint of a spice that he already recognized as uniquely Harry. Draco put all his pent-up emotion into that kiss and his world narrowed to the two of them and their kiss.

Pulling back, quite breathless, Draco smiled at Harry's needy whimper. "Come on," he said softly. He led Harry down the hall, pausing to press Harry against the wall and capture his mouth in a demanding kiss. Harry yanked Draco's shirt out from his trousers and slid his hand up Draco's smooth back. Draco moaned, cupping his hand over Harry's prick, rubbing gently.

Harry bucked into Draco's touch and began to tug at the buttons on the front of Draco's shirt with his free hand. He struggled with a button for a few seconds before he took the front of Draco's shirt in both hands and pulled, buttons flying every direction. Harry grasped a nipple between his finger and thumb and rolled it into a hard nub.

"Oh fuck, Harry," Draco groaned, writhing beneath Harry's ministrations. Harry kissed down Draco's neck, pausing to nip at the juncture between Draco's shoulder and his neck. Draco closed his eyes and Apparated them to the middle of his bed, straddling Harry's thighs.

"Nice trick," Harry said, stretching up to lick Draco's chest.

Draco growled. "Just wait, I have an arsenal full of tricks and I plan to spend quite some time showing you." Sliding his hands under Harry's shirt, Draco pushed it up over Harry's head. Harry's hands were captured over his head in the twisted fabric. Draco leaned over and captured a dusky nipple between his teeth and bit gently. Harry arched up, his prick pressing towards Draco even as he wriggled out of his shirt at the same time.

Draco reached down and began to unbutton Harry's trousers, eliciting a moan as his knuckles gently rubbed along Harry's cock. Draco paused when he heard Harry muttering as he waved his hand in the air. Suddenly, Draco felt cool air on his arse. His very naked arse.

"You're not the only one with a few tricks up his sleeve," Harry said, growling as he tried to align their cocks together.

Draco stretched out across Harry, pressing against every single inch of flesh he could touch. He stared deep into Harry's eyes, and when their lips finally met it was electric. Draco pressed his mouth tightly over Harry's, his tongue sliding inside Harry's parted lips, worshipping, teasing, arousing. Harry's arms moved slowly over Draco's back, his caresses imitating the tender kisses they were sharing.

Soon their kisses became more and more heated. Draco pulled Harry's tongue between his lips, his movements rougher, his need frenzied. Harry scraped his nails down Draco's back, but Draco pulled back, ignoring Harry's soft whimpers, pulling his knees along side of Harry's legs. He cupped Harry's face in his hands and feathered kisses over Harry's face and across his chest. His hands slid off Harry's cheeks, onto his chest, where they continued to slide across Harry's taut abdomen. Draco dipped his tongue into Harry's navel and swirled it around, before nipping at the tender skin.

As Draco's lips caressed the reddened flesh, he slid off of Harry completely. Shifting quickly to his hands and knees, Draco licked, nipped and sucked his way from Harry's right foot, over his calf, up his thigh. He paused when he reached the juncture where Harry's leg became his hip. He ran his nose along that invisible line, inhaling deeply.

"Please," Harry pleaded breathily, his hands bunching in the sheets. "Oh god, Draco, please." He tried unsuccessfully to push Draco's head just a bit to the left. Draco responded by moving back down the bed and repeating his ministrations to Harry's left leg. This time, after he nipped at Harry's hip bone, Draco moved between Harry's legs and licked at his balls, sucking one and then the other into his mouth. Draco licked the clear fluid from Harry's prick, pausing at the top to dip his tongue in the damp slit.

Draco swirled his tongue around the edge of Harry's retracting foreskin, easing it back with his tongue before sliding Harry's prick into his mouth. Draco's head bobbed up and down as he worshipped Harry's cock with his mouth. Draco knew he'd never been so hard or wanted something so much.

Sitting up slightly, Draco reached for his wand on the bedside table." Lubricious," he whispered as he pressed the wand tip against Harry's hole. He dropped the wand and slid a long, slender finger in past Harry's guarding muscle, twisting and turning his finger, as he gently stretched Harry. When he felt Harry relax, Draco slid another finger in alongside the first one. He continued to suck at Harry's cock, while his fingers pressed in further, grazing the edge of Harry's prostate. Harry jerked on the bed and gave the most delicious moan. "Now, now, now," Harry chanted, breathlessly.

With a last flick to the tip of Harry's cock, Draco removed his fingers and slathered lubricant on his own leaking prick, before pressing Harry's knees up against his chest. Draco lined himself up with Harry and pushed forward, past the loosened ring of muscle. "So tight," Draco gasped, pausing to regain his composure. "So good."

He watched Harry's face for any sign of discomfort as he slowly slid into the velvet heat of Harry's body. When his balls rested against Harry's arse, Draco drew back and began a slow, gentle in and out rhythm.

Harry's hips met Draco's, thrust for thrust, each time pressing a little harder — urging Draco along.

"Not a girl. Harder," Harry panted between thrusts.

Draco pulled almost completely out and then thrust back in quickly, over and over, his pace becoming frenzied. Harry reached down, grasping his prick in his hand, mimicking Draco's speed. Within moments, Harry's release was pulsing across his chest, his channel rippling around Draco's cock. Seconds later Draco felt his balls tighten. He pounded into Harry as his orgasm ripped through his body, spilling his seed into Harry.

Unable to hold himself up any longer, Draco released Harry's legs and fell bonelessly onto his chest, his breathing ragged. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco, pressing a kiss to the damp blond hair at Draco's temple.

"Fucking brilliant," Harry said softly.

Draco laughed. "I prefer to think of it as brilliant fucking, if you please."

Harry shifted and Draco's prick slid out of him with a wet squelching noise. Draco curled into Harry's side, cast a quick Cleansing Charm and pulled the covers up over them. Before long, the only sound in the room was the soft, methodical breathing of the two men.

They woke up in the morning, a jumble of twisted limbs. Harry shifted, trying to untangle himself without waking Draco. As he slid to the edge of the bed, a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

"Leaving?" Draco said his voice husky with sleep.

Harry paused, pulling Draco's hand to his mouth to kiss the back of it. "Just going to the loo," he said with a smile. "But we do need to get moving. We need to get started on looking through Severus' journals and books today." He gave Draco a wide smile, slid off the bed and padded to the bathroom.

When Harry returned he stood near the bed, uncertain what to do next. "Umm," he muttered, looking around for his clothes. "I should probably go home and..."

"Potter," Draco said softly. "Come here." Draco lifted the covers and Harry slipped under them, turning to face Draco.

"Are you sorry?" Harry asked, hesitantly.

"That my father chose to follow a maniac, who was a bloody lunatic? Yes." Draco said with a cheeky grin, "That I had, and I quote, "fucking brilliant sex with you? Never."

Harry responded by pulling Draco into a toe-curling kiss that left them both breathless and more than a little bit aroused.

"And now, I suggest we take this to the shower where I intend to get you rather dirty and then scrub you clean." Draco said, leering at Harry.

Harry waggled his eyebrows and jumped out of bed. "Race you!" he shouted, already on his way.

Draco leisurely crawled out of bed and then Apparated into the bathroom. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, as Harry burst through the door.

"You lose," Draco said, smirking.

"You cheater!" Harry yelled, struggling to catch himself from falling as he skidded to a halt. "You dirty rotten cheater!"

"I think of it as resourceful," Draco drawled. He pushed off the wall, stepping inside the shower stall and turning the water on. He reached over, pulling Harry into the stall under the steaming spray, and then closing the shower stall door.

When they finally left the bathroom, they were both sated and content. Walking down the hall, Harry felt Draco's gaze on his arse and he hoped he looked as good in the Armani track pants and tee as Draco did.

They argued companionably during breakfast about the current season of the Chudley Cannons as compared to Draco's favourite team, the Ballycastle Bats. After they finished their meal, they stacked the dishes in the sink and prepared to Floo to Malfoy Manor.

Coming out of the Floo, Harry took a moment to stare in awe at the palatial foyer. The floor was white marble, with the Malfoy crest inlaid in the centre in varying shades of grey marble. The dark grey marble double staircase was accented by a black wrought iron railing. Under the centre of the staircase's landing was a small fountain surrounded by lush green plants. Harry didn't remember much of the Manor from the war, but he was quite sure it was never this open and airy before.

"Finished gawking at my home?" Draco said, smiling with amusement.

Harry blushed. "Sorry, it's just...well, not dark."

"Not dark? Did you expect us to have no lighting in the place?" Draco asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"No, no. I mean, well I still expected the Manor to be dark." Harry's blush deepened. "But this," Harry said with a wave of his hand, "is stunning."

Draco grabbed Harry by the hand and pulled him to the staircase. "I'll inform Mother you approve of her latest redecorating efforts," he said with a smile. They walked up the stairs. "Actually, the entire foyer used to be this dark grey marble with forest green accents. Now that Father is gone, Mother is redecorating, so you will still find several areas of the Manor that remain quite suffocating, I assure you."

Harry nodded and silently followed Draco down a long corridor, through a room that housed an old harp and a piano, and down another corridor. When Draco stopped before large double oak doors, Harry was so busy staring at the paintings on the walls, he walked straight into the blond.

"What the..." Harry groaned, rubbing the spot where Draco's elbow hit him in the gut.

Draco was standing still, a little paler than he had been before. "Sorry, it's just that I've not been in these rooms for several years. The journals in my flat were ones I brought with me after everything was moved here."

Harry tenderly ran his hand up and down Draco's back. "I know," he said softly.

Reaching out slowly, Draco grasped the knob and turned it. When the door opened, the torches on the wall flared into life, bathing the room in the soft glow of candle light. The room was filled with trunks and full bookcases lined two of the walls.

"Bloody hell," Harry sighed. "It'll take months to sort through this mess."

"These are mostly from Spinner's End," Draco said. His voice cracked and his breath hitched when he spoke. "His things from Hogwarts are in the next rooms." He gestured towards a door on the empty wall and walked sombrely through the room.

The next room resembled a potions laboratory. There was a large workbench in the centre of the room and cabinets of all sizes along the walls. Draco stepped forward and ran his hand along the potion-stained top of the workbench, his eyes downcast. "Thousands of potions were brewed right at this table," Draco said, with a reminiscent smile. "He perfected the Wolfsbane potion here. Sometimes, when I had trouble sleeping, Severus would let me help him brew potions for the hospital."

Harry moved to stand beside Draco and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, feeling the tension there. Draco's face was pinched and he was clenching his fists.

"The war was heating up and You-know-who...." Draco stared at Harry for a moment and gave a sharp laugh. "I can say it after all these years, can't I? After Voldemort returned, he demanded more and more of Severus' time, I was the one brewing the potions for Madam Pomfrey." Draco's lips thinned and he sighed loudly. "I never told anyone that before."

"Then I'm glad you trusted your secret with me," Harry said, rubbing their cheeks together and covering Draco's mouth with his own.

Pulling back a little, Draco ran his hands over his face. "I didn't expect it to be this difficult." He looked around the room, straightening his shoulders. "But we have a job to do, so this is not the time for me to have an emotional breakdown. "

"Draco, you're allowed to be upset," Harry said. "Snape was your godfather."

"True, but right now I need to be clear-headed. Severus would slice me up and use me in his potions if I allow my emotions to be my focus during our search."

Harry shook his head. "I may never completely understand the Slytherin mentality."

Draco chuckled and smirked at Harry. "What's to understand? We're cool, collected and sexy."

"I'm not touching that one!" Harry looked around the room. "Any plan on how to tackle all these journals? I'm suspecting an Accio the journal with the potion for making children Squibs is not going to get us anywhere."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I suggest we do this methodically, so that we don't backtrack and waste time. I think starting with the handwritten journals is best. You take the cabinets on the left, I'll tackle the ones on the right."

The next few hours were spent in silence, except for the occasional cough from the dust or the sound of turning pages. Draco closed the journal he was reading, raised his hands over his head and stretched, his back arching gracefully. He checked his watch. "Merlin, Harry, we've been at this for hours. It's nearly two-thirty. I'll get Kneasy to prepare some sandwiches and pumpkin juice."

It was nearing nine in the evening when Harry forcefully slammed a journal shut. "Nothing, not even a damn hint of any potions for Voldemort," he said angrily.

"I'd thank you to not ruin anything, Potter," said Draco angrily, looking at the journal underneath Harry's splayed fingers. "These journals and things may not be much, but they are all I have left of someone who was very important to me."

Harry looked surprised at Draco's outburst. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean any harm," he said, moving his hand from the journal. "It's been a long day. Maybe we should just head to our flats."

"I'm going to stay at the Manor tonight," said Draco softly. "I'll walk you out to the front door."

They walked silently back through the rooms and corridors that led them to the front foyer, each man lost in his own thoughts. Harry stood, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket sleeves. "Well, ummm, I should go then," Harry muttered. "Night."

"Oh for the love of..." said Draco, pulling Harry into a kiss. Holding on to each other tightly, the tension from the day melted away. Draco leaned back his arms still wrapped around Harry, his hands skimming over Harry's back. "I know you have to be at the clinic early tomorrow," he said as a way of an apology, "and if you stay, neither of us will get any sleep."

Harry smiled and rested his cheek against Draco's. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I want to go."

"I know," said Draco softly.

Harry kissed Draco on the forehead and stepped back. He took a handful of Floo powder from the bowl near the hearth and tossed it into the fireplace. "Sleep well, Draco," said Harry softly, stepping into the green flames as he called out "Harry Potter's flat."

A few days later, Draco convinced Harry to spend the night at the Manor, but the memories of his time spent being held captive and tortured in the dungeon apparently resurfaced. The resulting nightmares meant very little sleep for either of them. After that, they agreed that Harry would only come to the Manor on the weekends to help Draco look through the journals.

Draco had reconnected the Floo in one of the outer rooms, allowing them to chat during the day and giving Harry the ability to Floo closer to their work area. Draco was surprised to hear the Floo activate one weekday evening, early in their search, and to hear Harry's recognizable exit from the Floo.

He looked up to see a freshly showered, angry looking Harry entering the work room. He stomped up to Draco, stopping just before he ran into Draco's leg. "What are you doing here?" asked Draco. "Is there a problem?"

Harry pressed his erection into Draco's leg, at the same time leaning over to nip at Draco's earlobe. "In a manner of speaking," was Harry's husky reply. "You see I'm sort of going out with this bloke, only he's involved in a research project." The heat from Harry's breath raised the short hairs on the back of Draco's neck.

"Do tell," Draco replied, leaning his head back, providing Harry with a long expanse of pale neck.

Harry moved behind Draco, his prick settling against Draco's arse and his mouth latching onto his neck. Harry released the skin, but didn't raise his mouth off the tender flesh. "He's quite handsome and I find myself thinking about him all the time. So this," Harry thrust his hips into Draco's back, "is how I find myself at the most inopportune moments."

Turning around on his stool, Draco pulled Harry's body between his legs and wrapped an arm around Harry's neck, pulling him down into a kiss. The kiss was raw and needy from the beginning and before long, Draco found himself with his trousers and pants around his knees, face first on the worktable with Harry fucking him at a fierce pace. When Harry wrapped his hand around Draco's prick and stroked twice—the second time swiping his thumb over Draco's moist slit—Draco pulsed his release onto Harry's hand. The clenching of Draco's arse brought Harry off, groaning as he thrust into Draco, filling him with his seed. Harry collapsed, panting, onto Draco's back until Draco was forced to elbow him in the gut to regain the ability to breathe.

Harry rose, pulling Draco up with him. They stood, Harry's arms wrapped around Draco, until Draco wrinkled his nose and nudged Harry again. "Think you could manage a wandless Cleaning Spell? I'm a bit sticky here and the draft is unbearable."

As Harry's laughter rolled over him, Draco stepped away, delighting in the fresh feeling of the Cleaning Spell. He watched as Harry performed the spell on himself before pulling up his trousers and sitting on the stool next to Draco.

"So," Draco said with a smirk, "was this the only reason for your visit?

Harry blushed. "I was finished a bit early with patients, so I thought I'd come and help you look through journals. However, you're now aware of the direct result of me spending any time thinking about you." They chatted while they each looked through a journal, Draco taking every opportunity to tease Harry. After about an hour, Harry kissed Draco goodbye and went home.

Three diligent weeks spent going meticulously through Snape's mountain of journals had still not provided them with the answers they sought. Draco had finished with the journals they had found in the lab area and now was working on the journals from Severus' rooms at Hogwarts. It was mid-afternoon when Draco heard Harry calling from the Floo. Crossing the room, Draco knelt by the hearth, smiling when he saw Harry.

"Draco! It's unbelievable! I could barely believe it myself!"

Draco blinked several times, his eyebrows furrowed. "What's unbelievable?"

"Jenny got a letter from Hogwarts."

"Interesting," drawled Draco. "And exactly why does this matter to me?"

"It matters, you git, because Jenny is Mrs. Silsbury's daughter." Harry paused. "Mrs. Silsbury's Squib daughter!"

"You'd better come on through Harry, because you're not making any sense."

Draco stepped back from the fireplace, just managing to get out of the way before Harry stumbled out.

They sat down and Harry told Draco about Mrs. Silsbury's visit. "At first I was incensed," said Harry, "that someone would play such a mean trick on such a sweet girl, but Mrs. Silsbury kept insisting that I check it out."

Draco snickered. "Such a pushover."

"Anyway," Harry scowled, "I sent my Patronus to Minerva. I didn't want to wait for Owl Post. Minerva confirmed that Jennifer Silsbury was, in fact, listed in The Hogwarts Student Registry."

"But, she's a Squib," Draco argued.

"Apparently not," replied Harry. "It got me thinking, while I was waiting to hear from Minerva again."

Draco began pacing. "Again?"

"Yes," said Harry, "I asked her if the other children were also listed in the registry."

Draco began speaking fast, his excitement visible. "What did she say?"

"Well, at first I thought the reply was from Dumbledore, it was so vague." Harry smiled fondly. "Her reply was "Without parental permission, I am not at liberty to reveal a student's name. However, your information appears to be correct."

Draco considered Harry's revelation. "This could change everything."

"That's what I was trying to tell you," Harry said tetchily. "While I was waiting to hear back from Minerva the second time, I wondered if this was Severus' answer to the potion that Voldemort requested. Maybe he found a way to make it so that the children would appear to be Squibs, and since the Hogwarts register automatically puts their names in at birth — he'd have a way to find them and give them the antidote." Harry scratched his head and muttered, "That made much more sense in my head."

"No," said Draco, writing some notes on a scrap of parchment, "I think you might be on to something. But that still doesn't explain the mother's failing magic." Draco pulled out Harry's original graph and jotted some words in the margin.

Draco felt Harry peering over his shoulder as he wrote. "What difference does it make when the mothers first took the potion?" asked Harry.

"Possibly none," replied Draco, "but you never know. Sometimes the time of day a potion is given can affect the result. I just don't want to forget to look into it." Draco reached over and rubbed the back of Harry's hand. "We'll figure this out; you just need to be patient."

Harry chucked and then laughed out loud, "Yes, patient! Because that's always been my strong suit!"

Draco shook his head, amused. He sat quietly, flipping through his pages of notes. "Back to your thoughts about the potion. I think you may be on to something. It stands to reason that Severus wouldn't give Voldemort a fully functioning potion. And yet he has too much pride in his work for it not to work at all."

"Don't forget the fact that Voldemort wouldn't have hesitated to skin him alive if Snape failed completely," said Harry.

"Yes, another valid point," Draco said sadly. "But Severus would have known that. He had years of experience working both sides of the war. This would have been when you and I were still at Hogwarts. Right before the war ended, it would have been one of the last things he created."

"So there has to be a journal," said Harry, standing. He began to pace around the room, muttering. "If I were Snape, where would I hide journals that I didn't want Voldemort to find? They'd have to be close, I'd have to work on the potions in the evenings and I'd need a laboratory."

"Harry?" interrupted Draco. "What are you doing?"

"I'm thinking like Snape."

"What are you on about?" Draco replied with a grin.

Harry blushed deeply. "When Snape was training me, he told me that the best way to win any battle is to put yourself in the shoes of your opponent. So, I was putting myself in Snape's shoes. Trying to think like him."

Draco crossed the room and wrapped his arms around his lover, "I don't know how to tell you this," he chuckled against the back of Harry's neck. "But you're nothing like Professor Snape."

Harry bristled. "That's true, but I did spend quite a lot of time with him, training and duelling. So I might have more insight into the man than you think."

"Whoa, Potter," Draco replied, his voice louder. "Don't get your knickers in a twist. I didn't mean anything by it." Draco grasped Harry by the shoulders and turned him around. He pulled Harry into a deep kiss, as he slid one hand into Harry's black mop of hair, his other caressing Harry's back until he felt Harry relax in his arms. Resting his head against Harry's shoulder, Draco whispered, "I don't want to fight with you about Severus."

"I know," Harry said, squeezing Draco tightly, before stepping back. "It's late. I need to get some sleep."

"Are you angry?" asked Draco.

"I'm angry that after all this time, Voldemort is still a part of my life," said Harry, sighing, "but I'm not angry with you."

They stood near the fireplace wrapped in each other's arms, talking softly and making plans to meet later in the week for dinner before Harry left.

Another week passed and Harry and Draco were no closer to solving this riddle. Mrs. Leatherby's daughter, Alice, celebrated her eleventh birthday and received her letter from Hogwarts. This spurred the two men to work even harder. Neither of them could put the urgency to find the journals into words, but they both felt it just the same.

Draco was now checking through all of the books in the bookcases to see if any of them had hidden compartments or might hold a clue to the journal they sought.

A breakthrough came as Harry was removing some vials from a chest he had found in a wardrobe. He looked at the chest from the outside and then he peered into the empty space inside, repeating the gesture several times. "Draco," he finally called out, "come look at this."

Glancing up from the book in his hand, Draco groaned. "It's a box, Harry, a nicely carved one, but a box all the same."

"Git," replied Harry. "I know it's a box, but something isn't right. I think maybe there's a false bottom in it, but I can't figure out how to open it."

Draco hurried over to Harry's side. He inspected the chest closely, never touching it, but walking around the worktable to view it from all angles. "Where did you find this?" he asked.

"It was in that wardrobe in the corner. It had some of Snape's teaching robes on top of it, so at first glance I didn't see it. It wasn't until I noticed some of his robes not hanging straight that I even took the time to look."

After inspecting the chest further, Draco sat on a stool. "I think Father had a chest like this," he said, his brow furrowed. "It was charmed to only open for him or one of the house-elves."

"Did Snape have any house-elves at Spinner's End?" Harry asked.

Draco gave a laugh that sounded a bit more like a sigh. "No, Father gave him one once and he returned it. Said 'the little blighter was always underfoot'. So there's no one that Severus could have used as a backup, and I'm afraid it's useless to try to break it open. These charms are very old and border on Dark Magic."

"He had you," Harry said softly. "Try touching it."

"Me?" Draco replied, his eyebrows arched so high they nearly touched his hairline. "Why in the world would he include me in his charm?"

Harry rolled his eyes at Draco. "Merlin, how thick are you? The man left everything he owned to you. As much as I hate to say it, I'm sure the thought that he might not survive the war crossed Snape's mind more than once. Who else would he trust?"

"But he left you Pensive memories," argued Draco.

"About things I needed to know." Harry said sharply. "Things that would help convince me that he killed Dumbledore at his request and things I needed to know about my mother." Harry picked up the chest and thrust it into Draco's hands. The moment Draco touched it, the chest shimmered and the bottom fell off, scattering a dozen or so shrunken journals on the table top. A moment later, a cream coloured envelope landed on the journals, with Draco's name written in Snape's elegant script.

"Merlin," Draco whispered, reaching out a shaky hand to pick up the envelope.

"Would you like me to go?" asked Harry quietly.

Without looking up, Draco shook his head. "No, please stay." Draco turned the envelope over several times, running his thumb over the wax seal on the back before sliding his finger under the envelope's edge to open it. He pulled out several pages of heavy parchment and began reading aloud:

Draco,

If you are reading this, events have played out as I suspected they might and I did not survive the war. There are several things you need to know about the work I was required to do for the Dark Lord. My skill for potions was both a blessing and a curse. The Dark Lord was under the deluded impression that a potion could be created for whatever foul and evil undertaking he deemed at the moment.

I want you to read these journals, it's important to me that you have an understanding of what I was forced to do and why I was never able to tell you. The last time I saw you, you had refused the Dark Mark and pledged your allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix. I was never more proud of you that day, Draco, and it pains me that I was not able to tell you at the time. I can only hope that Potter and his band of supporters did not drive you to perform any Unforgivables on them.

Whilst I have no control over when you will read this, I can only hope that it is in time. The final potion the Dark Lord demanded I create was to be given to pregnant Muggle-born witches. He called it the Muggle-born Eradication Project. . He wanted a potion that would remove the magical properties from the unborn child, effectively making the child a Squib.

"I knew it," Harry yelled.

Draco glared at Harry, and then continued.

As strongly as I feel about Muggle-born witches and wizards, I must concede their worth. I was able to create a potion that I hoped would only inhibit any signs of magic in these children. The potion was never properly tested before a spy for the Dark Lord began to dispense the potion at St. Mungo's to unsuspecting witches. I fear I have no knowledge as to the number of test subjects and I can only surmise that the small amount of potion requested indicates a limited number of subjects. The first child, Jennifer Silsbury, was born late in May of 1997 and at her birth all signs indicated she was a Squib.

If the potion was successful, then all of the children born showing no sign of magical prowess and would be suspected of being Squibs. However, The Student Registry at Hogwarts should still list them as incoming students.

There are directions for brewing the antidote to this potion in the journal with the dragon on the cover.

Draco gave a stifled laugh. He looked over at Harry, his face blank. When he spoke, the tremor in his voice was the only indication of his feelings. "He just handed us the cure," he whispered. Picking up his wand, Draco waved it over the shrunken journals. "Engorgio". The journals returned to their proper size, and a journal with a dragon tail on its cover peeked out from the bottom of the pile.

Harry nudged Draco, urging him to pick it up. "You need to read it," he said. "We need to start working on the antidote."

Shifting the journals carefully, Draco picked up the one they needed and opened it slowly. He thumbed through the entire journal, before setting the open journal on the table where Harry could see it. "We might as well read this together," Draco said softly, turning to smile at Harry.

Harry moved closer to Draco, rubbing his cheek along Draco's arm. "We should tell Hermione, too. She's been quite anxious for some news."

The sun was casting short shadows on the floor by the time the two men had read Severus' journal. Harry was dumbfounded to read every step the Potions master had taken to produce the potion, from his initial selection and reasoning behind the ingredients, all the way to the finalized potion and antidote recipes.

The antidote must be given within the two month period that falls one month before and one month after the subjects eleventh birthday for optimum results. I am not certain what the consequences will be if the antidote is not taken during this time frame.

Harry checked the date. "Jenny's birthday was nine days ago," he replied, "how long does the potion take to brew?"

The relieved look on Draco's face gave Harry his answer before the words were spoken. "Four days, including the twelve hours of simmering time," Draco said. "We shouldn't have a problem."

The two men read the ingredient list and the directions several times, committing it to memory. Draco copied the journal page, word for word, so they could leave the original journal at the Manor when they went to St. Mungo's to begin brewing. Draco re-shrunk the journals and placed everything inside the chest and restored the faux bottom. He assured Harry that his mother generally didn't enter this wing, but he was not taking any chances.

The next week was a flurry of activity. Harry and Draco successfully brewed the antidote potion and four of the six affected children had been properly dosed. The remaining two children needed only to wait a fortnight before they could be cured. Once they were certain all of the children would be fine, they turned to the question of why the mothers were affected.

Acting on a hunch and a remark made by Hermione, 'It's acting like a virus that sits in the system, until it's suddenly triggered by an unknown source,' Draco had surmised that when the mediwitch illegally supplying the potion to the expectant mothers was killed in a raid, the potion was stopped prematurely, resulting in a latent side-effect.

Draco and Hermione worked together to treat the loss of magic as a virus, rather than just a symptom. They created a potion that effectively removed the 'virus' that was dampening the mother's magic.

Now that they no longer had to spend every minute searching for an antidote, Harry and Draco had officially begun dating and were currently spending the evening at Harry's flat, together on the couch. Harry was sitting against the arm of the couch with Draco sitting between his legs. Draco rested against Harry's chest, enjoying the soft tickle of Harry's fingers threading through his hair.

"It's too bad you can't publish your work with Severus' potion in any research journals," said Harry.

Draco laughed. "Oh Merlin! The Minister for Magic would have me tossed into Azkaban just for having the knowledge of all the potions the Dark Lord wanted Severus to brew. No thank you. It was difficult enough dodging all the questions about how I knew this one."

Harry splayed his hand across Draco's abdomen, his fingers sliding under the bottom of Draco's tee shirt, and running his thumb across the hair that disappeared into his trousers. "Funny how life works out, don't you think?" Harry whispered against Draco's neck.

Draco's breath hitched, making his reply sound like two words, "Mea...ning?"

Harry's laughter ghosted a warm puff of air against Draco's neck and he shivered in response.

"Meaning... Don't you find it ironic that we're together... because of Severus Snape?"

Draco was unsuccessful at holding back his laughter. "He's spinning in his grave as we speak."

"Like a top."

Shifting in Harry's arms, Draco kissed along Harry's jaw line, pressing his hips into Harry's. "I have an idea of some things we can do that will really get him going."

Harry's fingers toyed with the waistband of Draco's trousers, slowly sliding inside to cup his hands around Draco's arse. "Does this activity include the absence of clothing?" Harry murmured into Draco's ear.

Draco nipped Harry's earlobe and whispered, "Absence of clothing is just the beginning. It also includes my tongue and your arse. Interested?"

Pushing Draco off him, Harry was standing in an instant and he proceeded to drag Draco down the hall to the bedroom. Inside the room, Harry picked up Draco and tossed him onto the bed. "Strip," Harry commanded.

Draco smirked. "I'll take that as a yes."

June 2010

The sun was low in the sky as Hermione and Charlie watched the train pull out of the station.

"Who would have thought Draco Malfoy would be happy honeymooning on a train," said Charlie, shaking his head as he laughed.

"Quiet," Hermione admonished. "I think it's romantic. Draco knows how crazy Harry is about trains and it's not like they're riding the Tube. It's the Deccan Odyssey for Merlin's sake!"

Charlie shrugged, "True but I still have a hard time imagining Draco being pleased about sharing a loo with other passengers."

Hermione stopped, set her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "You have to be kidding! Draco spent a few thousand Galleons reserving the entire train. He also hand-picked each wizard who would be onboard as their staff."

"I suppose if you have more money than you know what to do with, you can work anything out," Charlie replied.

Hermione pulled Charlie close, "First of all, you know money doesn't mean anything to me." She kissed the tip of his nose. "Secondly, it's not about the money for Draco either. It's about what makes Harry happy. Once Draco realized he loved Harry, that's all it ever was about."

Charlie kissed Hermione tenderly, then whispered, "So do you think they're shagging like rabbits yet?"

Draco snuggled into the warmth of his husband's arms. They were sated after their most recent round of lovemaking. One thing Draco had learned early on in their relationship was that trains made Harry quite horny.

Lying in that twilight state of mind, the one right before falling asleep, he wondered what other things they still had to learn about each other. Draco dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. It no longer mattered if they had one thing or a million things to learn about each other. They were married and had their lifetime in front of them.

After all, every journey begins with a single step.

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