Chapter 20
In Which We See the Preparations Involved in Marching to War, Both for Those Marching and Those Left Behind

Snape was standing in the corridor when Harry and Draco arrived outside the Room of Requirement at quarter past two, glaring ineffectually at the empty wall where the door would appear. "Potter," he said shortly as Harry approached.

"Professor," said Harry with equal enthusiasm.

Despite having spent the last several hours having a luncheon of small, sticky foods eaten off his body or fed to him from fingers and other such body parts, he wasn't quite able to drown out the memory of this morning's encounter. The warm afterglow hadn't faded yet, and he kept feeling sparks of magic dance through his libido. He shuddered slightly, remembering how it had felt to have Draco's cock filling his sleep-slackened body as the sound of Snape's voice filled his ears. From the mixture of magic, lust and horror rising off Draco like a heat haze, Harry gathered that he was suffering from the same problem.

Harry ruthlessly banished all sex-related images from his mind and began the ritual pacing, concentrating on the DA, and the battle ahead. The door appeared on cue, and he opened it, expecting to find the usual assortment of cushions and Dark Detectors. Instead, at the far end of the room there was a raised dais, with a small table and three chairs. Arrayed in front of it were enough chairs for the entire DA, and then some. The shelves behind it held veritable armory of magical oddments, devices, and, of course, weapons.

Harry strode purposefully up to the wall, and asked, "So, do either of you know what any of this stuff does?" He recognized some of the things, of course, sneakoscopes and Moody's old Foe-Glass amongst other Dark Detectors that had shown up in his DA classroom.

"A few of these things appear to be lost legendary magic weapons similar to Godric Gryffindor's sword. I find it very telling that the castle would feel the need to bring these to light at this time," said Snape grimly. "I believe I will stay behind and organize the students when you two go up to cast the spell."

"Won't you be needed to guard Draco?" asked Harry rather sharply. He could still feel Draco's curiosity more than his own irritation, and it tugged him towards the shelf of many-coloured vials where Draco was crouched.

"I'm fairly sure I can make it into hiding without skinning my knee, Harry," said Draco with a smirk. "I'm sure we can spare the good Professor long enough to arm the students. After all, they are my first line of defence against whatever He Who Must Not Be Named sends along."

Harry felt a stab of fear through his chest at the thought of Draco in such danger. Unlike Harry, he would be doubly vulnerable, with nothing but other people in between him and death. Even his magic would be in Harry's hands. "Is there anything here for Draco to use?"

Snape turned, a strange object held in his hands. "I believe this will be perfect for him."

It looked like a twining nest of silver snakes, enamelled in green with winking ruby eyes. Set in emeralds down the back of the largest snake was the inscription, "Salazar Slytherin." The whole thing held an air of menace that made Harry's skin crawl. "What is it?"

"It was Slytherin's favoured weapon, much as the sword was Godric's. It will only work for one of pure blood from his own house, but it is said that the serpents, once set upon a foe, are quite relentless. Fortunately for Mr. Malfoy, Parseltongue, though helpful, is most likely not required." Snape's voice held some unnamable emotion as he handed the heavy weapon to Draco.

As if to show its acceptance of Draco as an appropriate wielder, the snakes began to move as soon as it was in his hands. Harry could hear them whispering amongst themselves, words like "Pure," and "Bite," and "Kill." Draco looked down at them with an odd expression on his face, half wonder and half terror filling Harry as the snakes slid up around Draco's wrists to form a pair of gauntlets before falling still and silent once again.

"What if it decides it likes one of the Death Eaters better?" asked Harry. "I mean, it was Voldemort who opened the Chamber of Secrets both times. He's supposedly doing Slytherin's work, purifying the wizarding world and all that."

The largest snake lifted its head from where it rested on the back of Draco's right hand. "Foolish Gryffindor, all bravery and no brains. Once we have chosen, nothing can sway usssss."

The speech dissolved into an irritated hiss, and then it quieted once more. "What did it say?" asked Draco quietly. Evidently, it took more than a marriage bond to pass along Parseltongue.

"Er, it said that they've chosen you, and they'll stick by you now." Harry turned around and sat abruptly. "I suppose the rest of the House weapons are on the shelf somewhere?"

Snape stepped back and looked carefully. "No, it appears not. I am very surprised that even one of them was. I would have expected to have to use the Sorting Hat to retrieve even this one."

Harry shrugged. The Room had provided once again, and it hurt Harry's heart to think that Draco would, in the end, require such a weapon to protect him. He sat there for a few long moments, drowning in his own worries, head in hands. Footsteps in the hall caused him to look up and find Dean and Seamus frozen in the doorway. "Er, is this for the DA?"

Harry nodded, suddenly weary of all of it. "Today we become Dumbledore's Army."

Seamus and Dean both started at that, but filed on in and took seats near the front. Snape and Draco sat to either side of Harry, taking up the rest of the small table, and Draco poured Harry a glass of pumpkin juice from the convenient pitcher. The rest of the students arrived soon after in chattering clumps, some of them griping amiably about a meeting being called on a Sunday, at least up until they saw the new Room, and the three grim faces at the back of it.

Soon all the chairs were filled, familiar faces and less familiar. Harry felt old, scanning the crowd of students as young as Third Year, and his heart contracted as he thought of all the childhoods that Voldemort had stolen right along with the lives he'd taken. Harry's included. He sighed, and stood. "I'm sure you've all noticed by now that this is not a normal DA meeting. Today, you will be armed and given orders to protect Hogwarts, and your fellow students, from an assault by Voldemort's forces."

A collective gasp went around the room, and Harry paused until silence reigned again. "We don't know for sure that there will be an attack, but we have intelligence that it may be as soon as tonight. Professor Snape will assign you weapons and explain their workings, and be in charge of working out a strategy for defending the castle. Today we will become Dumbledore's Army, and we must not let him down!"

They cheered raggedly, looking scared and excited and unsure. Harry sat heavily, and was shocked when Draco stood up. He looked every inch the Slytherin, wearing the snake-cutout robes he'd bought for himself on their shopping trip, the serpent gauntlets shining against the black and green velvet. Harry had smiled when Draco had chosen clothing for them both, saying, "If we're going to die, it might as well be in style."

Harry was wearing the red-and-gold velvet outfit, Gryffindor to the hilt. One of the house elves had even put a Gryffindor patch on the front of the robes, just as Draco had a Slytherin one on the green outer robe of his new outfit. He looked up at his partner and smiled, feeling a surge of that golden magic pulse through him on a wave of pride and love and only a little lust. The magic seemed stronger today, Draco's presence like the light of the sun on his face.

Draco cleared his throat, loud in the shocked silence of the room. "I want you all to look around at yourselves. You are all here voluntarily, the first line of defence against the forces of the Dark Lord. He Who Must Not Be Named will try and get into Hogwarts, to kill those he finds unworthy, to destroy everything we've spent our short lives becoming. We cannot let that happen! Even now, there are things for us to protect, and our futures and the futures of our housemates, brothers, sisters and parents to fight for. Will you fight?"

The cheer was much louder now, shaking the rafters, and Harry joined him, chest swelling with that golden pride. Even Snape looked surprised, and pleased with his wayward student. He and Harry exchanged secret little smiles as Draco sat, muttering, "You're shite at speeches, Potter."

"Never said I wasn't, love," said Harry, and shocked everyone again by pulling Draco to his feet and into a kiss. A flash told him that Colin Creevey was there, making sure posterity remembered him. He made a mental note to ask for a copy, aware of the picture they made together, green and black and silver wrapping itself around Harry's red and gold, Draco's head bent down to capture Harry's lips, both of them with hidden scars. Harry was even more surprised when the flash was followed by another hearty cheer.

Snape stood as they parted and said, "All right. Let's do this in an orderly fashion. Please organize yourselves by year and house, and I will distribute the weapons accordingly. Mr. Potter, did you have any suggestions for lieutenants?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Ron, if he's staying. Dean and Seamus. Blaise, I think, he's really shaped up this year." Harry remembered his shock the day Blaise, along with half a dozen other Slytherins, had shown up to a DA meeting. "Lavender, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbot for the girls." Neville had actually turned out to be a really strong fighter, but he was still crap at leading anything.

"That should be sufficient. Do you accept?" Ron wasn't there, and Harry wondered where he and Hermione had got off to. The six other named students nodded, coming up front at a gesture from Snape. "All right, line up by year and house."

Harry and Draco snuck away while Snape was organizing them, slipping out of the door and down the hall, with no one the wiser. As soon as he could find a convenient niche, Harry shoved Draco back against the wall and kissed him breathless. "God, I love you," whispered Harry, burying his face in Draco's neck and inhaling the scent of him.

"Love you, too," said Draco, his voice holding a hundred things that burned through Harry's chest, emotions too confusing to sort. Overlaying it all was the rise of that warm, honeyed magic, making them both hard and wanting. "But we don't have time for even a quick shag, if we're going to be on time."

Harry breathed him in again, moulding his body to Draco's in an attempt to memorize the way he felt in his arms. The magic rose within them, standing his hair on end; when he pulled away, it was like sticky taffy stringing out between them. They held hands loosely, unwilling to give up the contact as they strode towards Dumbledore's office to prepare for their own part in the war.

---

All things considered, the ceremony had been simple enough. Draco and Harry held hands, standing in a shaft of waning afternoon sunlight, and spoken the spell in unison. "Sanctum Amo," they'd whispered, their golden magic shining all around them like an almost-visible halo. Harry had felt something happen to it, pulling it out of Draco and around himself, making a barrier of light and energy and palpable love.

"All right, someone try and hurt me," said Harry, turning to the room, vision limned with amber light.

Draco turned him back and slapped him, hard. Harry was shocked to find that, while his face didn't hurt in the least, his hand stung quite a bit. They both looked at each other, grinning. "Did you feel that?" asked Draco, somewhat unnecessarily.

"Only in my hand," said Harry, holding up his faintly red palm. The sting was already fading. He gave in to his impulse and pulled Draco in for a soft kiss, and got another shock. He could feel Draco against him like a distant memory, but sharper than his own sensations was the feeling of himself pressed against Draco, glasses cold where they bumped Draco's nose, lips slightly rough and messy hair tickling Draco's forehead.

"Oh. Wow," said Harry softly when he pulled back. Draco's eyes were slightly glazed over, and Harry asked, "Could you feel it, too?"

Draco nodded, and reached out to pull Harry back into another intoxicating kiss. Harry had a vague notion someone was clearing their throat, but it obviously wasn't Draco, as Harry's mouth was sealed to his in a way that entirely prevented speech. It took someone actually tapping him on the shoulder, another sensation only vaguely felt, to pull him away from Draco. The amber glow was brighter now, and some of it had stayed with Draco this time. He glanced sheepishly around a room full of haloed people and reluctantly let his hands fall from Draco's robes.

"What's going on with you two?" said Hermione impatiently. "Honestly."

Harry blushed. "There seems to be a transfer of sensation other than pain," said Professor Flitwick, sounding intrigued. "This is very interesting magic! It's just too bad there's no time to explore the effects..." He trailed off, realizing what he'd just said and looking rather abashed. "Er, not... oh dear."

Harry and Draco both laughed, good humour bubbling up through the thick magic like carbonated honey. "They kind of glow, don't they?" said Tonks in a wondering voice.

"Right. Let's get the second spell done, then." Hermione was brisk and oddly stiff as she came forward. "This is the motion," she said, doing a complicated little swish of her wand, "and you say, 'Valeofero Amo.'"

Draco practiced the motion under Hermione's watchful eye until she pronounced him fit with it, and then cast the spell. "Valeofero Amo!"

Harry felt a rush of shivery silver threading through the gold, like veins in fine marble. "G-give me your wand," he said softly, wonderingly. Draco held it out, wordlessly, looking uncomfortable and a bit bereft. Harry tried the first spell that came to mind. "Expecto Patronum!"

A huge silvery stag came out of the end of his wand and stood proudly and quite solidly in the centre of the room, many-pointed antlers brushing the ceiling. Harry put out a wondering hand and found its coat was rougher than he'd expected, but completely real. He dismissed it with a thought, and it dissolved slowly into a wisp of shimmering mist before dissipating altogether. "That's... a lot of power," said Ron admiringly.

"Let's hope it's enough," said Harry. "After all, Voldemort's got blood magic on his side." They all shuddered, and the afternoon light seemed thin and insubstantial for a moment. Harry's eyes had cleared somewhat when Draco gave him his magic, the bright halos now somewhat muted. He looked at the grim faces around him, squared his shoulders and asked, "Right. What else do we need to do?"

---

As a precaution, no one in Harry's party knew where Draco was hidden. In fact, no one who wasn't physically going to be with him knew where it was at all. Dumbledore had allowed Snape to choose the hiding place, and they'd gotten Kingsley Shacklebolt to Floo in and lead the students. Draco had kissed Harry goodbye very tenderly on the steps of Hogwarts Castle, then been led back inside to be squirreled away, safe, or so they hoped.

Harry had Gryffindor's sword strapped to his side, in a sheath that matched his outfit disturbingly well. He wished he'd had more time to practice with it, now that the time had come, and felt far more confident in the broomstick strapped to his back in a makeshift sling that left his hands free for wand and sword. He had both wands, his and Draco's, just in case he found some way he could lock Voldemort up like he had in his fourth year, and still use Draco's shivery, unfamiliar magic to subdue him.

The afternoon sun was bright and cheerful, a light breeze teasing at their clothes as the grim-faced bunch trudged down the path to Hogsmeade. He could feel his connection to Draco in the back of his mind, a comforting series of emotions and sensations, going downstairs, rough stone against his palm as he touched a wall for support, trepidation and love and pride and fear. Thankfully, when they weren't touching each other, Harry's body got the foreground, the feel of Draco's wand in the palm of his own hand far stronger than the feel of soft velvet under Draco's fidgeting fingers.

He was amused to realize he'd been hard since they'd kissed in the DA meeting, thankful that no one had commented on the length of him pressing against the gold velvet of his breeches. The familiar magic of the bond pulsed through him, bringing Draco's heartbeat and an answering pulse of utterly misplaced lust that somehow made him feel stronger, more vital. Alive.

They reached the grounds in front of the Shrieking Shack, and formed a tight circle. Earlier, Dumbledore had brought in a Pensieve filled with dark, swirling thought, and shown each of them in turn Lucius' vivid memories of Voldemort's Lair. They all exchanged glances, fixing that image in their minds, and in unison, Apparated away with a sharp crack of misplaced air.