YAY~ Two weeks have passed! Here's chapter 3!

Harsh, body-wracking sobs pulled out of Harry's throat. He was sitting the bed of the room Snape let him use, legs curled to his chest with his arms wrapped around them, and his head buried in his knees. He tried to keep quiet with his sobs—he was pretty sure Draco would hear him, and possibly even Snape—but it was so hard when it already hurt so much.

He and Draco had been staying at Snape's for the past two days. Harry had went back to Grimmauld Place to get his mother's diary, so that Snape could go over the notes she left in there. Draco had returned to Villa de Malfoy for clothes—both for himself and Harry. When he'd seen Harry's wadrobe—he still wore Dudley's hand-me-downs, as it was too much of a hassle to go out to get robes—the blonde threw a fit. He ranted on about how it was inappropriate for a Malfoy to wear such rags and promptly burned all of Harry's clothes, including the ones that were on his back at the time. Now, he was walking around in Draco's ridiculously tight robes.

Another sob made his body shake, and Harry curled tighter on himself. It was one of his worst episodes.

This wasn't an unusual occurrence for him. It was something that happened every once in a while, after the end of the war. He always kept his emotions all bottled up—all his anger and pain and sadness—therefore, maybe around twice a month, he would suddenly wake up in the middle of the night and cry. He couldn't help it; there was nothing he could do to stop it.

But there was a trigger for it this time. He dreamed of his life before everything suddenly became so hectic. Before the war was such an immediate thing. When Ron was still his friends, and Hermione didn't run to him because Ron was being a bloody cockhead. When everything was just blissful peace.

Ha. Peace. As if he'd ever get that again. Or…maybe he could. Maybe, everything would be different because he was a Malfoy now. Draco obviously cared about him. Omnes familiae valor, the blonde had told him before he went to sleep. Value all family. Draco had told him that because the blonde knew he was going to have his true self unlocked; he would be an actual Malfoy. Everything was going to change.

Harry already went through enough change. He went through his first change when he realized he was gay. Dating Ginny had opened his eyes. Yes, at first he had desired the red-headed girl, but only when she was still boyish. But then she grew breasts, and hips, and was more concerned about the latest gossip in Witch Weekly instead of a good debate over which Quidditch team was the best.

He didn't understand why he felt such a way until one morning he caught himself staring at Seamus' ass as the Irishman bent over. Seamus had opened his eyes to…a lot of things. As in, things he didn't even know two guys could do together. Around that time, they were on the verge of war, and Harry didn't really have time to worry about his sexuality. But he did know one thing for certain; Ginny had to go. He remember after the war, when he saw Ginny's true colors.

A deathly pale, dirt-covered Harry sat on the hard bed, waiting for Madame Pomfrey to check him. He was a little more than shaken up, and with good right at that. Anyone would look the way he did after dying, coming back to life, and going blow-for-blow with a Dark Lord.

He sighed in relief, relaxing against the pillows of his bed. He was free. No more fighting, no more press—in a few years probably—no more school, no more nothing. He could do what he wanted now.

As he began to doze off, a small smile graced his still slightly blue lips. Maybe a vacation somewhere nice, like Hawaii or the Caribbean. He had the money and definitely had the time. A little alone time would've been great. Just him and the sea. He'd never seen the sea in real life, only from the taunting pictures the Dursleys brought back and placed on the mantle and forced him to clean. Harry sighed again. A vacation would really be great. He dozed off.

BANG!

Harry was out of his bed and crouched in a defensive position, wand in hand, in a blink of an eye. His wand was concentrated on the person who flung the doors open, glaring at him with angry brown eyes.

A few beds down, Madame Pomfrey gave a low curse as she dropped a potion vial, shooting a glare at the intruding person before waving her wand, banishing the spilt potion and fixing the vial, then shuffling away to grab another.

Lowering his hand, Harry blinked in shock at the person on front of him. Ginny Weasley glared at her currently ex-boyfriend, hip cocked and arms crossed. As she began taping her foot, Harry straightened.

"Ginny—"

"Explain!" She shouted, ignoring Madame Pomfrey's pointed glare. "Explain why you haven't looked for me? Explain how I had to fight all on my own. Explain how me, your fucking girlfriend had to come find you?"

Harry's brow knitted in confusion and anger. "Ginny, I just died and came back to life. As soon has Voldemort was defeated, I was dragged straight here. And you're not my girlfriend; we broke up before the war."

Ginny's face was ugly with anger. "You said it was only during the war! You said you were breaking up with me to protect me! You said we would get back together afterwards!"

"I never said that!" Harry thundered. "Ginny stop being a fucking bitch and get it through your head. The world. Does not. Revolve. Around. You. The war just fucking ended. There's still so much to do; do you really think I have the time, the fucking mentality, to be in a relationship right now? Seriously?"

"Dammit, Harry!" She screeched. "We're supposed to get married and live luxuriously! Live in a huge house with five cars and a bunch of mini you's running around! I was supposed to live a life like Narcissa Malfoy! I didn't even want to have to wipe my own ass! Dammit, Harry; you're fucking up everything."

Harry stepped back, eyes wide. "Is that what you wanted? Is that why you dated me? Yo-you…you bitch." He laughed humorlessly. "You know what? I don't even give a fuck; I'm not even attracted to you anymore. Haven't been for years. I mainly just dated you out of habit; I'd been pining after you while you slutted around and then I got you and…that was it. Nothing note-worthy. You're just a gold-digging slut."

Ginny gasped, a scandalized look on her face. "I'm telling Ron!" She whirled around and ran for the door.

"Please do!" Harry hollered after her. "And don't let the door hit your ego on the way out! On second thought, you should, just so it'll shrink a bit!"

The door slammed closed and Harry deflated, collapsing on his bed. Madame Pomfrey clucked her tongue as she made her way over to him.

"You have one hell of a life, little one."

"I know, Madame Pomfrey." Harry sighed. "I really wished I didn't."

Harry shivered. Merlin, he hated that memory. It just reminded him of how many people were truly loyal to him as a real friend, and not because they wanted the benefits that came with being friends with the 'Boy Who Lived'. That did include Ron, he realized bitterly.

"Harry?" A tentative voice called out.

He jumped when a hand touched his shoulder, head lifting and red-rimmed eyes locking with concerned, sleepy grey ones. He quickly ducked his head and curled tighter on himself.

"Sorry." He mumbled. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It is fine." The bed dipped as Draco sat down. "Tell me what is wrong."

"Nothing you can fix."

"You do not know that."

Harry shook his head. "It's not a problem exactly. It's just…the way I am."

Draco arched a brow. "They way you are? So then you are a person who cries all alone in the middle of the night?"

"Yes."

"I do not think so." Draco smirked slightly when Harry glared at him. "I think something made you this way. I think there is a trigger that causes you to cry like this. And we are going to fix that."

Harry yelped when arms were suddenly wrapped around him. Draco pulled the raven into his lap and held him close. Harry struggled for a moment, but was no match for Draco's veela strength, and therefore stopped. After a moment, he hesitantly put his head on Draco's shoulder.

"There." He could hear the smile in the blonde's tone. "Now, tell me what is wrong."

"Yes." A deep voice that could only belong to one Severus Snape drawled. "Please do tell why you are emitting these depressed airs and spreading them through my house."

"I just…" Harry huffed in frustration when his voice cracked and tears welled up again. "It happens every once in a while. I…tend to keep my emotions to myself, bottled up inside. And…eventually my magic forces it all out, and this happens."

Draco tightened his arms around Harry. Snape, who was all the way across the room, pursed his lips and snapped his fingers. A very small house elf with huge eyes and ears that reminded Harry of Dobby appeared.

"Master Prince has called Tiny, sir?"

"Yes, Tiny can you get me a cup of chamomile tea laced with calming draught?"

"Yes, sir! Tiny can, sir!" With an excited eep, the house elf that perfectly fit her namesake popped away.

This caused a small giggle to bubble in Harry's chest and slip past his lips. Not only did the elf remind Harry of Dobby, but it also reminded him of how preposterous Hermione and her 'S.P.E.W.' thing was. He unconsciously muttered 'spew' under his breath.

"What is so funny, Harry?" He looked up to find both Draco and Snape staring at him.

He blushed and looked down. "Well...Hermione...sort of...believed that house elves are being mistreated and tried to start a society to get all house elves freed."

Draco looked at him in horror. "That is preposterous! The elves love their jobs. They would probably go crazy if they did not do this."

"I know!" Harry snorted. "That's what I've been trying to tell her for years she just doesn't listen."

"Well, what is this about 'spew'?"

Harry brightened and smile stretched across his face. "Actually, it's an acronym. S.P.E.W. It stands for 'The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare'. Hermione created little button pins for it with S.P.E.W. across, and me and Ron thought it actually said spew." Suddenly, the boy's face fell and crumpled as if he were about to cry.

Luckily, Tiny popped back in at that moment, capturing everyone's attention. The small elf gave the steaming cup of tea to Snape, who took it and strode forward, holding the cup out to Harry. Blinking slowly, Harry tentatively reached out and took the mug. His fingers immediately began to warm and he smiled slightly as the gentle, sweet smell of chamomile wafted into his face.

"Thank you." He said to Snape.

The man nodded curtly, returning to his place across the room, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. Harry took careful sips of the warm tea, sighing in relief as the calming draught laced inside it began to work immediately. He relaxed in Draco's arms as his inner turmoil settled, his magic becoming less agitated.

"I have finished going over the notes your mother left, boy." Snape said. "I am ready whenever you are."

Harry perked up briefly. "Can we do it later today?"

Snape pursed his lips, considering. "We can, if you think you are ready."

"I am." Harry yawned. Now that his magic wasn't forcing him to stay awake and go through his emotions, he was extremely tired. Draco noticed.

"We can talk about this later." Draco shifted and took the now empty mug from Harry's limp fingers. "Get some sleep."

"M'kay." Harry agreed, crawling off of Draco's lap and into the blankets. He was out before his head even hit the pillow.

~oOo~

Harry stared at the ceiling in giddy excitement...and nausea.

That was why he hadn't yet gotten out of bed on this very, very much important day. He was afraid if he did get up, he would throw up everywhere...or worse. On Snape. And Harry didn't know what to do.

On one hand, he was happy because he finally found blood family that was—in Draco's case—willing to care for him, and he would love nothing more than to look at least a little similar to someone in his family other than his 'father'.

Plus, Harry admitted silently, Malfoy's are very attractive. Looking like one wouldn't be as bad as one would think...no worse than Lucius being my real father.

Harry sighed and rolled to his feet; heading to the adjacent bathroom. And that is the other hand. Who wanted Lucius Malfoy, current incarcerated Death Eater, loyal devotee to Voldemort, Harry's second most hated person since second year, to be their father? Even Draco had moments when he was ashamed to have Lucius as a father.

But Draco says Lucius wasn't like this before Voldemort came back. Harry sighed again and stepped into the shower, letting the heat soothe his tense muscles and wash out any lingering nausea.

He remembered yesterday, when he and Draco took a trip to Malfoy Manor. When they went to Lucius' private study.

"Well, this is it." Draco said, pulling some type of red flower from a pot. A fraction of the wall beside the table holding the flower pot slid aside to show a warm looking room. "I accidentally found this room when I was seven. Father was in there, but he was not angry with me. He simply just congratulated me on my cleverness and showed me around. It was always warm and cozy in there, so I constantly went back and read a book from one of the bookshelves, curled up in father's lap as he filled out work papers."

Harry looked around cautiously, not completely trusting anything belonging personally to Lucius Malfoy; afraid something—anything—was cursed or hexed. Draco snorted, obviously figuring out what Harry was doing.

"There is nothing in here that can hurt you, Harry. I wouldn't let you in here if there was."

He decided to trust Draco and let his guard down. Overran with curiosity, Harry immediately headed straight towards the bookshelves, which held vast amounts of books, much to his delight.

Behind Harry was Draco, who let out a soft smile with—dare it be said?—fondness. Not that Harry could see it...or would he ever. It was very much so unbecoming for a Malfoy—or any Slytherin—show compassion to anyone not their life mate, in public. Not that they were in public, mind you.

For many hours, Harry sat behind Lucius desk; going through paper work, finding sheets of parchment written almost as if he was writing a letter to a lover—presumably Lily. Other, similar, sheets of parchment were written diary style and Harry read through each and every one. Soon, he began to cry; silent tears that left Draco partially frantic to cheer him up. Harry eventually stood and stretched, his muscles sore from sitting so long. He laid a hand on the table and looked at Draco.

"I-I didn't know, Draco. He...he was a good person then? At least…at one point in time." He looked downwards, barely moving his lips as he spoke. "He did love my mother."

From what he found in the desk, Lucius didn't seem like a bad an at all. All the malicious things he did...didn't really seem as if he did them. It was all so confusing.

Draco stood and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezing it slightly "He was a very loving, proud man before the Dark Lord returned." His voice grew bitter. "Then he became this—…this thing that groveled at the Dark Lords feet." He snorted in disgust.

Harry lifted his head to look at Draco when Snape suddenly appeared and interrupted them—

"HARRY! You damned impotent bastard! If you don't wake up now—." Harry jumped at Draco's pissed voice and quickly step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist as he heard his door slam open.

"Where are you, dammit?!" Harry walked out of the bathroom to find a fuming Draco standing in the middle of his room, hand on hip and robes draped over his arm. "There you are, you lazy git. It's almost ten o'clock in the morning!"

"Oh...yeah." Harry mumbled, walking to his trunk, bending over to root through it as he looked for something as close to fitting him as possible. He gave a small yelp as he felt a sharp stinging on his ass. He whirled around to glare at Draco.

"What'd you do that for?!" he said, rubbing the sore spot.

"I knew you were hiding some of those rags from me. Merlin, those things are worse than Mundingus'." He gave a delicate shudder. "Put these on and I will fix your rat's nest. Thank Salazar neither Father nor Lily has unruly hair." He thrust the robes towards Harry.

Scowling slightly Harry took the clothes and gave Draco a pointed look.

"What? Oh, for the love of Merlin!" The blonde said, rolling his eyes but turning around.

Harry quickly dressed, aware of Draco in the room. Even though the blond had already seen his scars, he was still self conscious of them. Remembering the day before, Harry could help the swell of happiness he felt for his older brother.

Draco was outraged to hear the Dursley's beat Harry. All through dinner he sat in stony silence, no doubt thinking of the ways he could torture the Dursleys to death. Not that he would, if Harry didn't want him to. Which he didn't; he wasn't going to turn into another Voldemort.

"Harry?" Draco called, tentatively.

"It's too tight. Who the hell wears this?" Harry complained.

Draco turned, grabbed his arm, and pulled him out of the room, towards the main library where Snape was waiting.

What about my hair? Harry thought silently, arching a brow.

"I do. And so does Father and now, you." he said, dragging Harry along. The rest of the way to the library was silent.

The library was magnificent. Floor to ceiling bookshelves crammed with books lined the each wall; a break between two where a large fireplace supported a crackling fire, staving off the cold September weather. A comfy looking couch and three equally comfy looking chairs sat in the middle and two large desks surrounded them. it was just as nice as every other room in Prince Manor.

Snape sat at one desk, going over the notes. His head was bent over and his hair lightly brushed the desk and papers. He looked up as Draco walked in with Harry, zeroing in on the raven haired man. He sneered slightly and turned his attention to Draco.

"What took so long, Draco? Surely it is not so difficult to wake a single boy. A light hex would do if one is stubborn."

Draco smirked. "He was already in the shower when I came. The reason it took so long is that this bloody house is so big!"

"Language, Draco. It does not matter anymore. Harry sit there in front of me. Draco you sit over there, I don't know how this will affect your magic." Snape said, indicating where each should sit.

Harry fidgeted in the chair. While brave only just the moment before, he now was terrified to death.

Snape sat in front of him, going over the counter spell for a last time. He wanted to make sure everything was correct before he began. The dark haired Potions Master looked up at Harry with a grim expression.

"...The process will more than likely be painful. If not, then a slight uncomfortable feeling will occur as I...as the book says, touch your magic core. Don't be a Gryffindor and panic, just sit still and let the process take place."

Harry matched the grim expression of his ex-Professor. "I was already prepared for that, Sna—sir. Chances are that I might be too strong or our cores won't sync properly. Even if that wasn't the case, it's still a possibility that it will be painful in general. I mean, you are pretty much taking my whole being, ripping it apart, pulling out all the right pieces, and gluing it back together." He shrugged.

Draco and Snape could only look at him. To calmly say that he was practically going to die, it shocked both of them. Then again, Harry has been facing death since age eleven...till only a few months ago.

And people wonder why he decided not to become an Auror. For seven years straight he faced things that most Aurors could only dream about their whole lives. And if it wasn't because of the fact that the life of an Auror would be boring, then it was simply because he had enough of facing danger every single fucking day of his life. He only wanted to live a normal life.

Well, as normal as it can get for the defeater of the Dark Lord. Harry thought to himself.

"Clear your mind." Snape said to him.

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. To clear his mind became easier after he 'died', sacrificing himself to Voldemort. Occlumency came easier to him too. That whole 'experience is the best teacher' thing definitely came in to play while fighting Voldemort.

"Are you ready?" Harry nodded to Snape. "Brace yourself. On three, okay? One…two…three. Legillimens Maximus."

He flew back hard into his chair as pain flooded his body. He screwed his eyes shut. It felt as if someone hit him with a Crucio, but instead of fiery hot needles cutting into his skin, it felt as if the needles pierced straight through and were cutting at his very soul.

Very vaguely he heard Draco gasp behind him and start screaming at Snape. "What are you doing?! Stop it, Severus you are hurting him!"

Snape didn't—couldn't respond. He hunched over himself, concentrating on Harry. Every few seconds or so, his body shook in pain as Harry's magic lashed out at him, desperate to protect its master.

Harry could feel Snape in his mind, could feel the man's pain, and tried to hold on to his magic. He could feel its confusion as if it was saying 'why are you stopping me?'

Later, Harry would look back at this time and be amazed at his new found ability to feel his own magic. Not as a thing that he controlled with some words and a swish of his wand, but as a person. As a part of himself that continuously wanted to appease him.

Harry's magic allowed Snape to delve deeper into him (heh heh heh). It shied away as the man reached its heart, timidly reaching out as Snape...talked?...to it. The pain lessened slightly as Snape spoke to Harry's core...Or at least it felt as if he were talking to it. That was the only word that came to Harry as he felt Snape contact his magic.

Suddenly, an intense pain shot through Harry's body; he screamed and arched his back at an almost inhuman angle. His magic began to unravel in his body as Snape, who had fallen on the floor, recited the spell. The goal was for Snape to stay in contact with Harry's core long enough to locate the curse and break it, the whole time repeatedly saying the counter spell.

As abruptly as it appeared, the pain went away; Harry fell to the floor beside Snape. It seemed Snape found the curse and was attempting to break it. Harry panted heavily as he sat in peace for the first time since they began.

Again, Harry's back arched agonizingly as the pain returned in force; this time directly in his chest straight down to his belly button. He dimly realized Draco was there holding him in a cool embrace. A few words registered through his pain filled haze.

"Harry...Harry. I am... so sorry. It...okay... end soon. Will not...do again...do not...on me."

The words were lost as the pain intensified and Harry let out a bloodcurdling scream. Sweat and tears ran down his face as he sobbed; silently praying for it to end—

And then...it was all over.

The pain disappeared almost as if it wasn't there in the first place. A soothing, calm feeling rushed through Harry as his magic healed him, begging to be forgiven be its master. Magic that still felt the same...or rather, not. It felt stronger...colder—no, not colder...but similar.

It reminded Harry of winter days when the sun fought the heavy, overcast clouds and its cold warmth heated his body as the bitter winter wind brushed against him in its cold embrace. It felt…right.

Slowly, Harry's senses returned to him. He first realized the slightly musky scent that was Draco's distinct cologne. Next, he felt the softness of Draco's wings wrapped around his body...and a cold wetness that seemed to appear from nowhere on his face. He carefully opened his eyes and immediately recognized Draco's tear-stained face. He tried to sit up, but Draco held him down.

"You cannot sit up yet, Harry." He whispered. "You went through a lot just now. You need rest."

"Where's Snape?" Harry croaked out.

Draco looked up and Harry followed his gaze. Only two feet or so Harry laid Snape, curled up on his side and panting hard. The shadows around the man and in the room seemed to undulate and throb. Alarmed, Harry sat up, ignoring Draco and the pain shooting through his body—which was nothing compared to the excruciating pain he felt earlier—and crawled to Snape.

"Snape." He croaked out softly. "Snape...get up. Come on. If I can get up, you can to."

He laid a hand on Snape's arm and shook the man gently. Two obsidian orbs blinked up at him. Snape shifted beneath Harry's and the Potions Master sat up slowly, Harry's hand still on his arm.

"Boy..." The man rasped, his voice nearly the complete opposite than its usual silky smooth depth. "I see it worked then. You lack the usual air of inanity that surrounds a Potter."

Harry winced slightly, looking down before flicking his eyes back up into Snape's. The man's eyes were not filled with hostility or hate, as they used to. But neither were they filled with warmth exactly. They betrayed no emotion on how Snape felt, other than the obvious pain from what just happened only moments before.

"Alright, alright. Enough of that. You both need sleep and you will go. To sleep. Now." Draco had risen and was now glaring down his nose at the duo, concern filled in his eyes. "Up. Now. I will not tolerate excuses. You both need rest."

Harry had no excuses or complaints as he already felt bone tired and thought of nothing more than to lie down in a warm, fluffy bed with soft blankets. The thought made him moan and he stood a tad too quickly, bumping into Snape, who had risen at a slower pace.

"Dammit, boy. I see you are still as inept as ever." The pain and weariness made Snape snappier than usual and Harry was quick to move out of his way.

He stumbled to his room, collapsing on the bed without removing his outer robes. Before his head hit the pillow, the raven haired man was asleep.

REVIEW MOFOS! I know last chapter I said I would do review responses, but there were a lot more reviews than I was actually expecting T.T thank you! so I'm probably just going to answer questions that won't have answers within the story from here on out. But don't ask me questions like what happens next because I'm just going to ignore it okay? Yeah, so review

1: Okay so a guest left a review on chapter one asking me why Harry's name is Harry J Potter bar Black and not Malfoy, and to answer your question (if you're still reading this anyway) the spell placed on him conceals everything remotely Malfoy about him, and so on all his records before the spell was broken say that he is a legit Potter, and then he has the Black name because Sirius left everything to him. Hope that answers your question; if it doesn't, then get back to me

2: FOR EVERYONE WHO SUGGEST SEV BE A NAGA -_- I'm so sorry, but how fucking cliche can you be. Really, I am sorry, but I hate cliches. Just...please.

3: FOR EVERYONE WHO SUGGEST SEV BE A VAMPIRE...again, the cliche guys. Does anyone not notice that I don't do cliches for the most part? I'm just sayin'

Okay, whatevs great chapter. yay. You'll find out what Sev is laters.