Hello my duckies. I'm back! Sort of. Here's a story that has been nagging at me for a while now, and I just had to get it started. I will also be returning to work on my other stories- my apologies for being away for so long. Life happened.

WARNING: This will be a slash fic. As in, lovely man on man snogging and angsting and just general smexiness. I don't think that this will end up delving too deeply into the realm of the graphic, but there will be (eventual) sexual themes. Thus, its "M" rating. You have been duly warned.

DISCLAIMER: Do not own. Have never owned. If I did, I would not have joined the military to pay the bills. Cheers.

He hadn't planned his life to be like this. Nobody had…well, maybe Dumbledore had, but seeing as the meddling old man never explained that weird twinkle in his eye, they couldn't be sure. Anyway, he was dead now, so what he thought and planned were no longer of any consequence. Or at least, they shouldn't have been. Yet here Harry was, sitting in the office of the Minister of Magic alongside two of the people who despise him most in the world, listening in shocked disbelief to recently discovered "secret" will of one Albus whatever whatever whatever Dumbledore.

Apparently, at some point directly prior to the man's death, he had contacted Fudge and entrusted to him an amendment to his will that was to be passed on after the news of his death had died down. Of course, Fudge, being the complete idiot that he was, managed to shove this potentially critical document in some filing cabinet somewhere, and then promptly forgot about it. There it sat, apparently collecting dust, for several years before the new Minister, (a much more efficient and reliable Kingsley Shacklebolt) unearthed it during a flurry of spring cleaning. When he had first heard the news of the oversight, Harry had been livid…but sitting here now, with the words Kingsley had just read still hanging heavily in the air, he couldn't help but wish that the damned thing had never been found. No doubt sensing the impending explosion, Kingsley stood, muttered something about leaving them to discuss in private, and then hurried out of the room at an impressive speed. Stillness reigned in his wake.

The stunned silence was finally broken by a sharp hissing sigh from the man to his right, which was immediately followed by an outburst of cursing from the room's final occupant. Snape, Harry noted, was sitting as still and rigid as death. If it weren't for the tight line his lips were pressed into, his white-knuckled grip on the arms of his chair, or the rage burning in those dark eyes, he might have passed for a statue. Harry wasn't even sure that the man was breathing. Malfoy, on the other hand, was nothing but movement and life and noise. He had risen rather violently from his chair at this point, and was angrily pacing the office, cursing and intermittently kicking furniture. Harry noted, with a sort of clinical detachment, that one of the scuff marks he left on the wall looked a bit like the sorting hat. Several long, tense moments passed before Malfoy seemed to run out of creative threats on the minister's life and finally turned his attention to Harry. He crossed the room in three long strides, and placed himself scant inches from Harry's chair with his arms crossed angrily across his chest. Slowly, Harry looked up at him…when had he gotten so tall?...and waited quietly for whatever Malfoy decided to dish out.

Snape had moved finally- turning to watch them but still not saying a word. Harry supposed that he should feel some of the anger that the two men were clearly displaying. He should probably feel indignant and defensive because they were clearly going to find some way to blame him for this. The thing was, Harry didn't feel much of anything. Everything was still whirling, and the realization that his life was once again not his own had left him feeling numb. He didn't know what to say. There was nothing to say, really. Snape could glare all he wanted, and Malfoy could rant at him until he went hoarse, but it wouldn't matter. There was nothing that they could say or do to change what had been done. It was all, somehow, perfectly legal and binding. Within the next 24 hours the three of them would have to be bonded…and then they would be stuck together. Forever. For better or for…well, most likely for worse.