Fic: Dragon Tear Resurrection

Sequel of Draconic Recall

Author: Vera

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: Harry/Snape, Harry/Draco, Draco/Snape

Disclaimer: I own nothing of these characters, I make no money off them.

Summary: Ten years after Draco's death, Harry and Severus venture to his side for his possible resurrection.

Categories: Angst, Romance

Feedback: Welcomed, celebrated and vaunted.

Archive: Surely.

"I never thought I'd have to rob these graves again."

Two men moved among the shadows of the Malfoy tomb, located on the back forty of the formidable estate. The one who had spoken was excessively tall and thin with a large hook nose and rounded shoulders. He moved in determined straight lines, slouching a little unconsciously. Practically made for skulking around dark dead places.

The other was significantly shorter and moved with a profound limp while leaning heavily on cane. He was humming a jaunty tune under his breath and fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. A stray beam of moonlight glinted over a small pair of glasses. He walked with the cool assurance of a man who understood his place in the grand scheme of things. Not the skulking type at all.

"You've grave robbed here before?" Curiosity tinged the shorter man's disapproving tone.

"How do you think I know the location? Pureblood families like the Malfoys have a vested interest in keeping such things a secret. Have you learned nothing since you were a first year?" The taller man sniped. "And please do stop humming. You're beginning to remind me of Albus."

Moonlight twinkled off the glasses again and their owner chuckled. They continued on the morbid errand, trying not to think about what lay before them. It was eleven o'clock on October 5th. Before them, the marble edifice that held every dead Malfoy who had ever walked the earth.

"What were you trying to find the first time?"

"Lucious had a grudge against a great-uncle of his. The old codger had been unusually disagreeable, even for a Malfoy." The taller man snorted. "When he died, Lucious insisted we remove some of the man's personal effects." A short pause. " We were thirteen."

"Precocious little shit wasn't he?"

They walked together into the dimness of the tomb and whispered the spells for light. There was no one around for miles, the Malfoy property still in contention among half a dozen distant cousins and different governmental agencies. The tomb's walls were lofty, a long hall of shelves filled with Malfoy dust and bones. Closest to the entrance was the only free standing encasement. It housed whatever trace elements were left of the founding father of the Malfoy clan. The shorter man wrinkled his nose in vague disgust.

"They say he killed his father and moved to England to escape charges, changing his name to Malfoy as a bad pun."

The taller man did not acknowledge the statement. He was staring down the long corridor of Malfoys, trying to discern the end. Their objective would be the last shelved in these walls, perhaps forever.

"If this doesn't work...."

"I know. It's too much to hope for after all this time." The shorter man placed a comforting hand on the taller one's shoulder. "We won't know unless we look."

The pair that walked the halls was much more somber then when they had begun the journey, a little sloshed on vodka, at Hogwart's about an hour ago.

They had been planning this trip for nearly three months now, trying not to put to much of their well worn hope into it.

They had survived one of the ugliest times in wizarding history, both doing their part to bring down an almost insurmountable evil. They had come through mostly intact, their great loves at their side to continue a mundane existence. No happiness came without a price for them and all too soon they were left with only each other and memories of times better and worse.

They had formed a sort of partnership over time, built on memories more then lust. By now, it had deepened to a mellow true love that was comforting though never discussed.

Tonight might shatter all of that and dig up more then a body. Dozens of names lined the walls with various epitaphs and moving sculpture marking the burial ground. The walk felt miles long. The limping man had to stop in the fifteenth century to rest.

"I'm getting old." He said with little bitterness, rubbing at the seized leg. "Will he have aged?"

"I don't know."

They walked again, reaching the end of the vaults in a little less then ten minutes. More familiar names decorated the walls here. The bodies of Lucious and Narsissa Malfoy were entombed together right above the vault they had been seeking.

Draco Malfoy- Beloved Hero, read the inscription. Moving sluggishly around the words was a Chinese serpentine dragon that had it's mouth firmly locked around it's own tail, gradually devouring itself into a tight knot until it winked out of existence. It reappeared a moment later beginning the process again.

With delicate fingers, the younger man traced the shrinking figure, muttering incantations. A creaking, protesting sound signaled the release on the tomb's seal. Gradually, a long slab of rock was released from the wall and at another incantation, settled gently the floor. It was sealed slab with no visible opening.

"This is it, then. Should I say it or shall you?"

"Stop being childish." But the other man made no movement to utter the words.

"You know, you're cute when you're scared." Even in the somber light the glasses glinted in good humor.

"Open the casket, before I have to do it over *your* corpse."

"Yes, Master. Amgdali."

The covering of the tomb disintegrated revealing the body of Draco Malfoy. Ten years dead and locked in a vault, the average flesh would have shriveled and decayed. Not so this one. The barest flush of pink still rose on alabaster cheeks. It is a commonly known fact that hair and nails grow for a certain amount of time after death. Silvery blonde hair was packed and matted, filling up the top of the casket. Long, curling nails had wrapped around the wand clutched symbolically in right hand. The body was still growing, changing.

"He's.... alive." The younger man choked out. Neither of them moved to touch the body, too afraid to break the strange magic weaving itself protectively around the prone body. "That smirk on his face.....Maybe he really will rise."

"When did you administer the dose?" The taller man asked stiffly, his face a blank mask.

"At dawn. I remember watching the sun rise over the mountains..."

"We have a wait then."

There was no place to comfortably sit. The limping man whispered to his cane and withdrew from it two miniature chairs. Within seconds, they were large enough to settle into for the night. Their vigil began in silence, but they both knew it would not last.

"I remember the first night that I fell in love with him."

"Harry...."

"It's important. We need to tell these things. Whether or not he wakes from this tonight, next year or never. Sev?"

No answer. Harry took that as a yes and plunged into memory.

(*)

It was a night so charged that Harry would forever remember his hair standing on end. The next day, the war was to begin in earnest. Everything was in place for a tactical maneuver that Voldemort would never expect.

It would weaken the Dark Lord at several critical points and may, in fact, change the course of history.

Harry wanted nothing to do with it. He was attempting to sleep, ensconced as he was in the makeshift barracks in the dungeons of Hogwart's. Many of the other students had been sent home or to protective bunkers whose locations went undisclosed, lest the information be leaked.

It was May, but unseasonably cold. It was worse in the dungeons, the chill working it's way into the bone, refusing to leave. The bed was the one he spent the past seven years in, moved to the dungeons for his comfort. It seemed different here. He couldn't imagine how the Slytherins slept here all the time. Surely none of them would stand to be half-frozen all the time. There was no friendly breeze, no distant cry of the owlery. The dungeons were perfectly still.

That is, until the curtain around his bed was lifted and someone dressed in black slithered into his bed. In an instant, he grabbed up his wand ready to kill. The person lifted their hands, showing their emptiness.

"I'm sorry." The voice was so familiar and in a flash of gray eyes in the dark, Harry realized his third worse enemy had just climbed into his bed. "So sorry. Please...."

Reluctantly, Harry lowered his wand. The boy on his bed seemed to relax slightly. At his command, a soft light filled his bed, flattering the thin and bruised face that had plagued his life. Malfoy, for the first time Harry could remember in their long history, looked absolutely horrid. He couldn't have been sleeping much if the bags under his eyes were any indication and there was a long livid bruise down one side of pale skin.

"What?" Harry started.

"I need to get away from them. I never wanted...." The thin body quivered, but his voice was steel. "Save me, please. I'll do anything to take *him* down. I was wrong, damningly wrong."

"Merlin." Save me, Harry. Save me from Voldemort. It was the one plea that Harry had no ability to resist. It was his sworn duty, his fate, his destiny to save people from Voldemort and he could not refuse it. Not even to a known death eater. "What happened, why me? How did you get in here, anyway?"

"I Apperated to Hogsmeade, walked into Hogwart's and used a secret Slytherin entrance. They missed it in the wards, I sealed it after I came through. As to what happened..." A delicate shudder poured over thin skin. He pulled up his sleeve until Harry could see the Dark Mark. Malfoy's was identical to all the others Harry had seen, except the surrounding cuts. It looked as though he'd spent the better part of a day trying to scratch the thing off of his skin. "Severus warned me...I should have listened, but I had to do things my way. I had to be stubborn. Potter....Harry. Please. You have to help me. I can't...I can't live with this. I need to do something to wash it from my skin."

"I will help you. But you must tell me everything."

"Yes, anything and everything." One slow nod. "I surrender to you."

It was Harry's turn to shudder. He knew that this was coming, the language of war was going to become his own and now, he had his first prisoner without a fight. It was too soon and too frightening. This wasn't Malfoy's role. He was supposed to be the bitter enemy until the very end of the play, but he'd caved in during the opening monologue, tossed aside the frightening arrogance and sent up the white flag.

"Tell me. I'll discuss it with Dumbledore first thing in the morning."

A quick dart of a sharp pink tongue wet chapped, peeling lips. It was the only warning he got before the story began in earnest. Harry sat at perfect attention as the ugly story was shot rapidly out of the lips he once believed shaped to spew insults. He told of the induction ceremony, the ritualistic blood lettings and other horror stories. If it had been anyone else, Harry might have suspected it was all a very calculated act, but Malfoy had always been bad with at hiding himself. He wore his beliefs on his sleeves, said exactly what he meant.

What clinched it for him was when Malfoy described the circumstances under which he left. It involved the killing curse, Lucious Malfoy and an innocent Muggle girl. In the middle of it, a tiny river of tears started to trickle from stormy gray eyes.

"He killed her. For fun. And not sudden at all...he played with her like cat with a mouse. I thought... I thought it would be different. I thought we were fighting for a cause. She was just a little girl. No one deserves that. Not even an animal. He wanted me...he wanted me to force myself on her, before he killed her. " He started to tremble again, the tears coming again, faster now. "She screamed. I have information, I know where they have their meetings, I could spy..."

"Shhh. It's okay. You don't have to go back there. You're with us now." Without knowing why, he scooted down the bed and took the quaking blonde in his arms. "I've got you."

There wasn't even a moment of hesitation before Draco melted into his arms, clinging like a child, hard silent sobs racking the emaciated flesh. It was not easily faked and little by little as the sobs turned to long stuttering breaths, he was convinced. For no strategy or prank would Draco Malfoy degrade himself to this level.

"Severus did warn me." Draco whispered into Harry's ear, his forehead pressed on the T-shirt clad shoulder. "When he saw the mark...he stopped talking to me."

"You're on a first name basis with Snape?!" And for some reason that was the most surprising thing that had happened this night. Though hadn't Draco said it before.... Strange.

"I've known him since I was a child." A slight hiccough and loose sob. The cogs in Harry's head spun rapidly.

"You knew he was a spy?"

Draco rose from the awkward cradling position and somehow wound up in ascended in Harry's lap. Shock, Harry decided, had made him regress.

"The winter of fifth year, right before I went home for Christmas. I was worried about him, he looked as if he hadn't slept in a month and when I went to visit him on off hours he couldn't even sneer properly. I kept coming around so often to check on him that I guess he figured he had to feed me so excuse or the other.

"But I had already started to piece the clues together. Voldemort isn't the brightest dark wizard in the world. He likes his plans too complicated and messy. And for a dark lord, he trusts people awfully easy. I knew Severus was a Death Eater, but it didn't mesh with everything else he told me. He has all these high ideals about what people are and aren't supposed to be. It just made sense to me that he was a spy. When I asked him, he said he was and that if I was as intelligent as I thought I was, I would do the same. "

"Why didn't you just turn him into Voldemort? Gain some brownie points."

Slate gray met emerald head on in a long distasteful stare.

"Severus has never wronged me. The information he was receiving was fairly low level stuff. Besides, if I had turned him in, I would be looked on suspiciously for associating with a traitor."

"Death Eaters are fucked up."

"Tell me about it."

There was a pause and they both began to laugh. It had a slightly hysterical edge to it, but it allowed some of the tension to leave their bodies. Draco somber again suddenly, caught by a thought.

"I think, if it wasn't for Severus. I would have gone back. When I was walking from Hogsmeade to here, I kept trying to rationalize everything. I thought that maybe I could return and plead forgiveness. No one was around, but Father. I could even show them the entrance and tell them how it wasn't sealed. But I just had this image of Severus in my head, staring at me disapprovingly.

"He hasn't spoken to me since I received the Dark Mark. He must have been at the ceremony. When I came back to school, he treated me the same in class, but he had all the passwords changed on his apartment and office."

A thought occurred to Harry in a sudden, stomach lurching charge.

"You're in love with Snape."

Draco looked away, but it's hard to avoid someone when one is sitting on them.

"As long as I can remember. Is that enough now, Potter? Will you save me now?"

Oh! Draco thought that this was what he meant by telling everything...he was answering as if he had taken Veritaserum.

"You've already saved yourself. I just have to bargain with Dumbledore, but if you have Snape on your side, you've already been spared. Dumbledore listens to everything he says."

"He should. Everyone should." Draco sighed and pushed off Harry.

"What now?"

"There's not much we can do until everyone wakes up which isn't for another four hours. I would tell you to sleep, but I'm afraid if someone saw you...."

"Why can't I sleep here?"

"Uhh...this is *my* bed, Malfoy."

"I'm sure you're familiar with the concept of sharing, Potter."

"I am not letting you sleep with me."

There was a long drawn out pause until Draco sighed delicately and began speaking as if to an infant.

"Potter. We're going to need a lot of energy to deal with tomorrow. There is no other logical place for me to sleep. All you have to do is lie down and take it like a man."

"Oh gee, well when you put it that way...."

"You're a bigger git then Severus." Draco said firmly. "Shove over and go to sleep."

Mouth gaping open, Harry watched in horror as he was pushed back under the covers and was joined by a warm body. Draco gestured the lights off.

"I would think that you wouldn't be so eager to get into bed with me." The warmth moved closer. "And I definitely didn't think you'd want a cuddle."

"I *like* a warm body in my bed, Potter."

"Is Snape warm?"

Draco stiffened visibly.

"I wouldn't know."

"I thought you said..."

"I would think, Potter, that by now you knew that there was a difference between love and sex. Or did even that distinction fail to make it through your thick skull?"

"He wouldn't let you sleep with him, would you?"

"He doesn't know. Now shut and go to sleep, Potter."

Harry shut up. But he didn't sleep for a long time. Instead, he watched Draco dream, eyes moving rapidly under translucent lids. Something had altered tonight, far deeper then a simple defection. Malfoy had become Draco. He'd gain entrance into Harry's life and holed up there.

The Boy-Who-Lived was the first to admit that he fell in love far too easily. Something to do with his childhood, he was sure. He fell in love in many different ways, but every time was special and every person he loved still dear to him as the day he fell.

So why did this feel different? Why did he have the strangest feeling that Draco had just built himself a permanent home in Harry that previous to this invasion, he hadn't known existed?

(*)

"Heart warming." Sev muttered.

Harry shrugged.

"I won't say I'm sorry. It was just how I felt. If he thought he could have gone to you, he would have."

"He let himself be touched by Voldemort, after everything I told him. What was I supposed to do? Go on acting as if nothing was wrong?"

"He loved you, even then."

"And as you've pointed out many a time, I didn't know it then." Black robes shifted restlessly. "It's midnight, now."

"A good chunk of time left then. How could you not have known?"

"At the time, he was my student and under my care. I am not a pedophile, Potter." Snape returned dryly.

"You know that's not an answer." Silence. "But I'm probably not going to get a better one. Well, it's your turn anyway. When did you first know that you loved him?"

"He was three. And before you say a bloody word, it wasn't that kind of love."

(*)

"Severus! You did make it. We were concerned when you didn't R.S.V.P."

Malfoy Manor hadn't changed at all. He smiled politely at Narsissa, who had already turned to another guest, ignoring his reply. That was a good sign. It meant that he wasn't nearly interesting enough to be entertained by the hostess. No one suspected his turn coating.

It was more then a little daunting to make his way through the crowd of faces. He kept hearing the howls of the meetings, the flash of a mask. He could feel his muscles tense every time someone drew too near. Waiting for the ax to fall, he had reason more then once to be glad of his habitually somber expression. No one stopped to wonder why he was frowning or being antisocial. It was accepted.

"So you've returned. I am so very glad, Severus. We were worried about you." The purr in his ear was unmistakable. He didn't bother to turn.

"Lucious, Happy Christmas. I was way laid on my latest expedition. I thought I had a standing acceptance to your soirees." Expedition was

the euphemistic term for missions in the name of the Dark Lord. Lucious nodded slightly. He too had bought it. For a moment, Severus allowed to despair. He had left behind all of this and that meant Lucious, who had been his only friend in many years.

"Of course you do. Have you seen Draco, recently? The boy is really starting to grow." A wolfish grin ground out any dying pangs of regret Severus would have had. The abominable way Lucious referred to his son was one of the many things that had prodded him to leave. It sounded a bit like he was raising a particularly juicy lamb.

"I saw him at the last Christmas party. He was just beginning to speak then." The wobbly infant had been escorted in by a nurse, who prompted him to say a slurred Merry Christmas to the whole party, before being dragged back to bed.

"Let's make a brief escape then and see him. He should be going to sleep about now."

Reluctantly, Severus followed the slim man away from the party and up several discreetly placed stairs. The nursery was in the left wing of the house, apparently. The room they entered was brightly lit and filled with all sorts of toys that cluttered the shelves and floor. A small pile of books were obviously placed about. Draco would read young whether he liked it or not.

Another small door lead into a child's bedroom decorated frivolously in baby blue. Painted animals scampered across the walls to huddle around a slow moving rocking chair. The nurse Severus dimly remembered from the year before was reading a story book to a very sleepy young Draco.

"Father!" The little boy looked up and Severus felt his heart clutch. Last year, the boy's eyes had still been the blue of the very young, but at some point during the year they had sharpened to the slate gray that marked all male Malfoys.

" Draco. Do you remember Severus Snape?" A mute shake of the head.

"Come and say hello properly."

Already, the boy was afraid to rise and embrace his father. He had been taught to act decorously at all times. He carefully clamored off his nurses lap and approached Severus with as much decorum as chubby legs and cartoonish sphinx pajamas would allow.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Snape." A small hand was extended.

"A pleasure I'm sure, young Mr. Malfoy." He shook the hand gravely.

"Arissa!" The nurse snapped to attention at Lucious sharp tone.

"Were you reading this...this disgusting piece of Muggle trash to my son?"

"It's only a fairy tale, sir! I don't see..."

"Come with me girl. We have something to discuss."

Chilled gray eyes met Severus'.

"I hate to ask it, but would you mind putting Draco to bed? I believe I have something to discuss with Ms. Arissa."

Severus didn't get the chance to reply before Lucious took off, nurse in hand. A miniature pair of slate eyes looked up at him expectantly.

"Will you read me a story? 'rissa was."

"Let's find one slightly more appropriate, shall we?"

To Severus great surprise, Draco shook his head.

"I liked that one. Father won't be back for a long time."

Already rebellious. Severus considered putting up a fight, but then he'd be stuck with a grumpy three year old Malfoy and he was sure there was no way for that to end well. Gingerly, he picked up the book which turned out to be nothing more then Cinderella sans moving pictures and some added Muggle details. To be on the safe side, he created a false cover for the book, before sitting into the chair.

"Your taller then 'rissa. You need to pick me up, so I can sit in your lap."

With great care, he lifted the boy into his lap. Within moments, warmth traveled through his body as Draco situated himself comfortably. Gray eyes regarded him expectantly.

"You have a big nose." The boy said suddenly. He said it with the air of a professional observer of such things. "I like it. Please read now?"

Severus blinked, before picking up the book and taking up from where Arissa had left off. This was a second generation of Malfoy who could talk him into anything. His charge sat still the entire time, thoroughly engrossed in the story. When it was finished, Severus was surprised to hear a small sigh.

"I like that story, but I won't hear it any more."

"Why not?"

"Father won't let 'rissa read me it. It's a bad book." Draco calmly took the volume from Severus' hand and resolved it. "I'm going to go to sleep now. You'll have to lift me up and put me in the crib, tuck me in and then give me a hug and a kiss."

He really had to unearth some of the child development packets Albus had given him. Surely this wasn't normal behavior for a three year old? He lifted the tiny body into the brass crib in the corner of the room. There was a blanket kicked to the corner. He tucked it around the child who was still solemnly watching his every move.

Pudgy arms stretched out towards him. Reluctantly, he bent awkwardly over the bars of the crib and gave the boy a light hug, brushing his lips over one flushed cheek.

"Good night, Draco."

"Good night, man with the big nose." With that the boy turned over and seemed to fall instantly asleep.

Severus watched him sleep for a long time. This wasn't a normal child, couldn't be with the Malfoy taint that showed so obviously in silver blonde hair and stormy eyes. A strange desire rose in him. He wanted to quietly remove the child from his crib and sneak him away before he woke up. This was no place for a baby to begin it's life. It was planting a seed in the desert.

The decision to turn no longer seemed at all unclear. This was the reason he had chosen Albus' way. For this new generation of Malfoy, who already knew to hide Muggle things from his father, who still trusted strangers. He would be here, he vowed, when he could. It would not be difficult to instate himself here. After all, many of his days had once been spent in these long elegant halls. He needed to watch Draco, to build the fires of his rebellion, but above all, he needed to keep him safe.

(*)

"He called you big nose? And lived to tell about it?"

"Really, Potter, I don't make a hobby out of killing small children. He'd simply forgotten my name." Dark eyes darted to the living corpse. "I failed him. That's why I stopped speaking to him. I couldn't look him in the eye and know that I hadn't made a difference,"

"If it hadn't been for you, he would never have come to our side at all."

Thick strands of black hair shadowed the lined face.

"I doubt that. He would have come eventually. He was better then his father. He always was."

"Maybe." Harry resettled himself, trying not to wince as pain lanced up his right leg. "I suppose it's useless to guess. But you were his everything, Sev. You can't deny that now."

"It should have been you, Potter. You would have done better by him." It was an old argument, ranging as far back as fifteen years when the body they were watching still had some true life in it.

"Not in his eyes." He reminded. "He told me once that I couldn't understand his darkness the way that you did."

"There wasn't anything to understand. He was guilty over things that he had little control over. We shared the sentiment."

The silence made a brief return, echoing through the long hall.

"You know, I offered once. Before Ginny and I really began." The admission hung in the air for a bit. "We were a bit sloshed of course."

"Drunk in the middle of battle. How very Gryffindor of you."

"We weren't drunk, just a little looser. And it wasn't as if we were on the battlefield. It was in a bunker."

(*)

"Are you telling me that you never ever ever ever had sex?" Harry stared disbelievingly at his drinking companion. Draco blinked lazily at him.

"That would be what I was telling you, Potter. Try to keep up."

"But....not even Pansy Parkinson?"

"Ew. No. I don't screw sycophants."

"Apparently you don't screw anyone." Harry blinked. "But all those rumors..."

"I once heard a rumor that you and Granger did it in the restricted section while the Weasel watched."

"I never did! Oh. I get it." A sage nod. "You're proving a point."

"Three points to Gryffindor. Honestly, Potter you can't hold your liqueur at all."

They were sitting in the corner of a stone bunker near the front lines. It was mercifully quiet tonight and the duo was celebrating with pilfered rum. The war was almost at an end and more people then Harry cared to contemplate had already given their lives to the cause. The two boys huddled closer, fighting the cold. In another three days Hermione would be dead, Draco would begin the slow decaying process that eventually took his life and Harry's right leg would be shattered to uselessness.

They didn't know any of it now. They were miserable, cold and

hungry, leaning on each other. Draco was returning to Voldemort's side tomorrow and they were celebrating what might potentially be his last night on earth.

"Can too. Anyway, s'not the point. The point is...the point is..." He struggled for a moment before remembering. "Ah! The point is that everyone thought you were a megaslut and it turns out you're probably the only Slytherin who'll graduate a virgin."

"I don't see why it's important..."

"Cause of Snape, isn't it?"

Draco stiffened and started to pull away, but Harry's persistant hands kept him close.

"Maybe. A bit. He's not mine to have."

"Guess not. Still though. A bit of overkill on the melodrama. You know, Draco Malfoy, died a virgin, pining away for the great love of...ow! What was that for?" Harry rubbed his arm.

"Enough, Potter."

Quiet reigned briefly.

"If you wanted....I would." Harry offered clumsily.

"Thanks, Potter, but I really don't need a pity shag. Particularlya drunken one."

"If we're so drunk, how come you can still say big words right?"

"*We* aren't drunk. You are."

"Ah....so you don't want to?"

"Not with you, no."

Another long pause, this time a concession to physics as Harry wormed his way under Draco's arm, resting his head on his shoulder.

"I do love you, you know." Emerald green eyes sparked in the semidarkness. "I get it though, the whole Snape thing. You should tell him."

"Maybe." Draco felt his heart clutch. "Maybe."

They slept curled together that night. It was the last time they saw each other whole.

(*)

"So you were a sloppy drunk from the beginning then. No surprise there." Snape pushed graying hair away from his face.

"I suppose. He could put away an entire bottle of gin and not even blink." A head nod towards the semi-corpse. Snape snorted, inelegantly. "What?"

"Draco Malfoy couldn't hold his liquor worth a damn. I think Professor Potter that you have, to use a charming student expression, been played. By a master."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that all the times you were drunk off your heroic arse, Draco hadn't touched more then a drop." A brief rare smile flitted across pale thin lips. "You would definitely know if he had joined you in your inebriation. He had the most unfortunate tendency to sing bawdily, regurgitate and then proceed to pass out."

Harry blinked a few times. Then a smile curved on his lips.

"I should have known." He shook his head, brushing hair from his eyes.

"It's your turn."

"I wasn't aware there were turns."

"Well there are. And it's yours. So talk."

"Stubborn little...All right, don't give me that look." Harry continued to glare. "Fine. I'll tell you the after effects of your drunken advice"

(*)

The lab was dark and unnaturally quiet. Not even the dripping of water disturbed the silence. No children about, no school at all really. Hogwart's was on an extended break to be resumed next September when ostensibly everyone would have been ready to end their prolonged grieving.

Severus sat at his desk, staring into the darkness. He felt drained, useless. His purpose had been fulfilled, Voldemort was scattered to the four winds. Fatigue had found him and settled into his bones. No one had come looking for him in the days after the battle. He was marked down as surviving, but there were too many injured and dead to worry about those who still breathed.

He had come home with the intent to begin his postwar task of mixing potions for the multitude of maimed, but had found himself, for the first time in his life, unable to work. Lethargy had consumed him, pinned him to his chair and forced him to take breath after breath.

A knock jolted him from empty thoughts. A muffled curse and a few chanted words and the door swung open. It revealed a painfully thin young man. Gray eyes sought him in the dark and tapered fingers clung to the strange new cane that had become as a new limb.

"You changed your passwords back." The smooth voice flooded through him, shaking him aware.

"I saw no reason to keep out anyone who knew them." He hoped that was enough of an apology. They were the only words that had come forth.

"Lumos." Soft light filled the damp stone, echoing over an endless sea of glass and metal. "How long have you been sitting in the dark, Severus?"

"Long enough. I had to think."

"I doubt you were thinking much at all. It's all right. I understand. A blank mind would be nice about now." The blonde moved forward, coming to rest at the side of the chair. "I missed you."

"Oh?" Impassive as always because there is no reply.

"I love you." Hot breath in his ear, he shivered. "I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. Harry kept telling me that I should, but I couldn't. And now... I'm dying. A piece at a time and I have to let you know now. There is no more tomorrow to push it off too. In a decade, I will be no better then dust." A pause. "Please say something."

"What do you want with me, Draco?" A plea, a question.

"I want you to just be. Preferably with me. For as long as you can bare it."

"Why me?"

"There isn't a why. There just is. I want you, to be with you in any way you will have me."

The warmth was sudden, a lithe stretch of muscle and skin appeared in his lap, curling into his body. Impulsively he held it to him, indulging himself in the delicate smell of the man's light hair and skin.

"I will have you then." Was all he had said. And it was only later that he realized he should have said more. Should have explained his own fears and doubts, told him the reasons why, but at the moment it was too much to think of. There was pale beauty and two broken spirits. There was love too, but it hung forgotten in the background, the largest mistake of all.

(*)

"I still can't believe it took so long for you two to work everything out."

"I don't know what you're complaining about Potter, it worked out well enough for you."

Once, Harry would have raged at him for that comment, the indomitable Gryffindor spirit rising to defend itself. That was another man, a boy really, from another time. Harry knew better now. Knew that was Severus' defenses after such revealing and it was easier to let it pass. Maybe he *was* turning into Dumbledore.

"Tell me something else about him. From when he was kid."

"I believe it's your turn."

Harry shrugged.

"You've heard all my stories about him or were there for them. You knew him before I did."

"Can't even play by your own rules. Tsk, tsk, Potter."

The smooth silvery voice broke through the air, creating vibrations through the air that plucked all the hairs from the nape of Harry's neck and raised them to attention.

Two sets of eyes flew to the open casket. Pale lids had shot open to reveal questing gray eyes. Thin pale lips opened to gasp in breath and the whole body moved forward.

"It's only one." Harry managed to choke out.

"I've always been an early riser." Draco quipped. He grimaced at the state of his body. "Manicures." He muttered and the lovely smooth hands lost the strange curling nails. "Yitin Revertus." The matted hair fell away, leaving the short smooth look that the blonde had always preferred. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do that."

"Only you would think about your looks first upon resurrection." Harry smiled through his tears. "It actually worked. Can you stand?"

"Help me up?"

Harry walked over and reached down, his hands curling around a warm solid arm. It was real. Draco was real. He was alive, brilliantly alive. Harry had had a decade to say good-bye and to move on, but now...Now everything seemed a bit brighter, a little fuller. He drew the other man to his feet, helping him over the high sides of the coffin. After a long moment, Draco waved Harry's help away and stood on his own.

A short deep moan interrupted whatever Harry might have said at that moment, drawing both their attentions to Severus. The man was standing, swaying on his feet and his cheeks were wet. Tears! Harry had never ever seen Snape cry. Not when the Dark Mark had burned from his arm, not when Voldemort finally fell and released a shockwave of pain on all those who had betrayed him. Not even at Draco's funeral, there it was Harry who had wept like the lover and Snape who stood as tall and dry as a distant relation.

"Oh, Severus." It had been so long since those dulcet tones had been clear, even years before his death Draco's deafness had marred them. Draco moved to the weeping man's side without as much as a limp. Gently, he enfolded the taller man in his arms and laid his head on the thin chest. "It's all right. I'm here now."

Harry felt suddenly uncomfortable. This was too private a moment, one he had no right to trespass on. He had thought about this moment for a long time, concluding that he was ready to let both men go, now that they had each other again. How wrong he had been. How foolish to believe he could eject not only his revived friend, but the man with whom he had spent the last decade.

It came to him then, watching light and dark embrace in a twisted beautiful ying yang that the love he had for Severus was no more or less deep that what he had once had for Ginny and still held for Draco. It was a different love, born of necessity rather then choice, but it was no easier to shake for all it's forced origins. This was going to hurt for a long time.

*Merlin, Harry. It's not like you to be so pessimistic.*

Harry looked up in surprise, but Draco was facing away from him. It was his voice.. so how.

"Why are you in my head?" Harry blurted. Severus, his eyes still damp, shot him an interested glare.

*Severus. Harry.* Snape blinked. So Draco was in Severus' head too. All right. *You should know that I've been here for ten years. Not just in this tomb, but here. In both of your minds. One of the unstudied effects of Dragon Tears it seems is the displacement of the mind/soul/essences what have you. Whatever makes me fundamentally me had to be stored somewhere while my body recovered. I've lived this past decade with you.*

Gray eyes bore into Harry and he felt strangely similar to the day he had come out of the shower and found Hermione in the bathroom doorway. Vulnerable, revealed and embarrassed as all hell. Draco had been in his head! And he hadn't noticed! And that meant he knew all about Harry and Severus' relationship, had in fact, been forced to live through every moment of it from both sides.

"Harry, calm down. Honestly. You thought I was dead. It's not like your were going behind my back. Gryffindor honor is really quite something in action." Gray eyes narrowed and turned on Severus. "It fades Severus. In a day or three I won't be in your mind at all. And yes, I do know you better then I know yourself, but I did that before Harry managed to blunder up my death."

"Oi!"

"Look. We have a lot of things to work out. I've got a few ideas about where you're going to stash me and explain me away and a few others about interpersonal relationships, but I'd really like a shower and a good meal first."

They Apperated away moments later, landing outside Hogwart's. Once inside, they traveled silently through the bowels of the castle, settling into Severus' chambers. Draco went immediately to the bathroom and stayed for a long time. Harry called for Dobby and explained about the needed meal. The house elf had smiled up and been strangely quiet. It was highly disconcerting.

"What Dobby?"

"Harry Potter doesn't like fish. Professor Snape doesn't like. Master Draco likes fish. So if Harry Potter orders fish."

Harry's eyes widened.

"Dobby...."

"Dobby will not be saying anything, Harry Potter. But Harry Potter should be knowing that Dobby know, yes?"

Before Harry could reply Dobby was long gone. From the room behind him there was a muffled request from the bathroom for a robe. A short conversation ensued that ended with a short lightly mocking laugh. Snape emerged from his bedroom looking a little ruffled.

"What happened?"

"Draco saw fit to remind me that I kept some of his clothing after his death. He seemed to find the idea quite amusing." Snape being sentimental? Yes. Definitely amusing. Now. A few months before, Harry would have only found it sad and a little sweet. What a difference one ex-dead man made.

When Draco emerged, Harry could suddenly tell that it wasn't only his mind that had been along for the past decade. The Dragon Tear had only worked at reversing the curse and its effects, but couldn't do a thing about aging. When Draco smiled at the sight of fresh halibut, hairline wrinkles betrayed themselves. Blondes hid gray naturally well, but Harry could tell that the brilliant white-blonde was starting to fade.

So Draco had aged along with them and it suddenly seemed more as if the man had come back from a long trip which had been filled with a strange one sided correspondence. The man was alive, remarkably alive and just as middle aged as Harry could feel himself becoming.

"That was wonderful." Draco sighed, pushing the empty plate away. "I've been longing for something that filling." Long fingers pushed through still damp hair. "I've had a lot of time to think. About many things."

"We don't have to..."Harry began, but long fingers flicked at him, Draco's old sign of dismissal.

"If not now, when? There are going to be an awful lot of questions if I just turn up again. If people were to find out what happened there would be a lot of questions raised about the legality of Dragon's Tears and stealing from the Headmaster's garden."

"I never!"

Gray eyes settled on him, tinged with laughter.

"Honestly, Potter, where did you think you snagged the Dragon's Tear from? That was Dumbledore's private garden."

"Figures." Harry muttered. "The old coot probably planned the whole thing."

A snort of disapproval from Snape. The potion's master would not stand to hear ill of Albus, especially as Dumbledore's aged.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Severus chipped in, unexpectedly. "It is the sort of thing he would do."

"Regardless, I need to not be here. At Hogwart's that is. I think I have an idea, if you amenable to it, Harry? I know you spend your vacations at Godric's Hollow. Perhaps, I could live there?"

"Of course, but why not at..." He stopped, remembering that Snape never went home. Did he even have one? He seemed to remember the man mentioning something to the effect that it had burned down during the war. And Draco certainly couldn't try to lay claim to Malfoy Manor.

"Exactly. I can live there. I have my own accounts at Gringott's that I can tap without anyone noticing. I can alter my appearance when I go out. Harry, you can tell people that I've come to stay with you because I'm looking into the effects of Voldemort's curses and you've agreed to be a subject. I have a lot I've wanted to research, so my free time will be taken care of...." Draco sighed. "I don't know what to say about this..." He waved his arm to indicate himself, Severus and Harry.

"Not nearly as easy to solve, I think." Severus drawled.

"Don't mock, Severus. I've thought about a lot of things and lived with you both. I won't take away what you've built between each other for many reasons. But I'm still Slytherin and I demand a percentage." Gray eyes pinned Harry down again. "From both of you."

"Like a threesome?" Harry's eyes crossed a little, trying to imagine those dynamics. Draco shrugged delicately.

"Like three relationships. Will work out the details as we go along."

"It seems, Mr. Malfoy, that you've left no room for argument. Your plans are impeccable." Severus looked away, even as Draco grabbed at one sallow hand and clung to it.

"Please, Severus. I need you, more then ever now. I'm not making you give up Harry, don't make me"

"Oi!"

"Shut it, Harry." Draco turned back. "If you won't have me back, then you might as well put me back in the coffin and seal the lid, Sev." The diminutive hung, a far crying reminder of other days.

"Don't be melodramatic." Snape scowled. "You know..."

"Yes. I do."

Another moment of Harry squirming in his chair like a teenager as the two looked at each other evaluating what they saw. The tension in the air was palpable and he was beginning to consider sneaking out quietly when Draco turned to him with a smile.

"Well, that's decided then."

And so it seemed it was. Draco was settled in Godric's Hollow the next day. It was a wonderful project over the next few weeks to find and purchase furniture, clothes and other necessities. It was watching life rebuild itself. Even Severus seemed to enjoy himself when Draco begun to choose carefully designed research programs for himself, digging in oldest stores he could find for ancient rare texts.

The strange triangle went well, for the sheer fact that none of the

three were ever together in private. Harry and Severus continued their strange liaison at Hogwart's and alternated weekends at Godric's Hollow. It was a balance that shouldn't have, couldn't have lasted.

It took exactly a year for things to break. The night of October 5th still held a strange place in Draco's mind and he wound up staying by the fire obscenely late, sipping tea. Both Harry and Severus had arrived, both correctly assuming he would be awake and in need of some company. Neither left.

When it came time to sleep, whispered charms enlarged the bed enough for three middle aged men to use together. Lying together, their dreams developed a curious trait of bleeding over into one another. Between the three they had enough nightmares to fill thousands of empty minds, but in their shared sleep the horrid images began to fade, finally loosing their potency.

For years, the trio moved about the world as they always had. Severus eventually retired, moving into Godric's Hollow, causing a small scuffle for territory in the large cottage. Harry took over the place of Headmaster and took to carrying sweets on his person, letting light twinkle off his glasses and being unnaturally cheerful. Draco informed him that if he grew a beard then he shouldn't bother coming home.

When he returned to Godric's Hollow to be with his lovers, Headmaster Potter stayed out of the house and Harry went in. Both Severus and Draco were constantly knee deep in ancient tomes and strange ingredients, publishing papers and speculations that kept them very well occupied.

The nights were his favorite. Crawling into a big soft bed, surrounded by warmth and slow nocturnal movements, he could pretend that nothing outside the bedroom existed, that everything was suspended in those precious moments. It was fitting that in one of their slipping dreams, Harry released his tenacious hold on the world and left Draco and Severus for the oblivion of death.

They buried him next to his parents. It seemed fitting at the time. A year later, it was Severus who left, still sitting amongst his precious ingredients. Draco buried him next to Harry and began to make arrangements for his own internment. He had no will to live and spent the rest of the year he knew he had to live through, wrapping up his affairs. The man, who for the past sixty years had been known as Drake Snattor, ended his ties with the outside world.

He died on October 5th, just as Harry and Severus had. He sat by the fire and waited for it to come. His last thoughts were a tangle of fear, love and fragmented memories. When he finally left his body, it crystallized, the magic of the Dragon's Tear collapsing, letting Voldemort's curse return. The strange remains were buried as directed, without head stone, between the graves of Severus Snape and Harry Potter. After all, Draco had always insisted on being in the middle of things.