Thank you so much for reading, guys! This is it!

Chapter 3

December ended, January flew past, and in came February, much to Harry and Draco's distress.

"You can't simply rely on heating charms!" Draco nearly shrieked, as the thirteenth loomed over their heads like a bad omen. He again ignored Madam Pince's warning about being silent in a library; there was just too much stress on him to care. "There might be a few creatures that are immune to that sort of thing, but I can't see how learning any other charm in here would work for you. I've looked them up. Ice and snow creatures don't usually fall for that sort of thing!"

"Then I'll use normal charms to try and keep them at bay—maybe I'll transfigure them into something harmless?"

Draco slumped against the table, his eyes gleaming with tears of fear and stress. "I don't know … maybe."

"Hey," said Harry softly. He walked around the small table and sat behind Draco, massaging his shoulders. With a moan, Draco leaned back into him. "Don't work yourself up about this. You've gone up and beyond for me already. Looks like I'll just have to take my chances with what we've got."

"Ahem." Someone coughed pointedly. Hermione stood over them, looking awkward. She smiled at Harry, but it faltered at Draco, who sat between her best friend's thighs. She felt her cheeks going red. "Malfoy, Headmistress McGonagall wants you."

The bottom of Harry's stomach seemed to drop away. Oh, not this again. He moved to allow Draco to stand.

"This is for the Tournament, isn't it?" he muttered. "Taking the loved one to a place only the Champions can find?"

Hermione nodded, though she had no real idea of what Draco was saying. "She wants to see you immediately."

Draco bent down and pressed a kiss to Harry's lips. "I'll see you after the second task."

He walked out of the library with Hermione in tow, leaving Harry to his own devices.

. . . .

One would think that knowing who they were meant to save would be a blessing, but not Harry. No, he needed more details than just that. After having to save Ron, and then Fleur's little sister Gabrielle, from the bottom of the Black Lake, he wasn't going to be happy with where they'd stuck Draco. Would Draco be able to sense if Harry was in danger while he was asleep? Was there even a spell powerful enough to knock out a Veela and force the Veela to ignore their mate's imminent danger?

Harry wished it had been either Hermione or one of Draco's friends that were taken. Not having Draco around felt like having a limb removed. And what did the judges think they were doing, taking a Veela from his mate? Did they even know of the possible consequences?

It was a well known fact that Veelas were particularly … possessive over their mates. With Veelas lives depending on the welfare of their mates, it was important for Veelas to keep them safe. Should anyone decide to harm the mate, it would be prudent to find the nearest funeral home; Veelas would transform, and tear them apart.

Anxiety started to kick in. Really, what was stopping him from storming to McGonagall and demanding that she choose someone else—anyone else—just so that he could have Draco back? Pride, answered a voice inside Harry's head, snickering. It always comes back to the pride, doesn't it?

Shut up, Harry told it half-heartedly, but knowing in his heart of hearts, that was the truth of the matter. His pride might not have been as big as Draco's, but it wasn't small, either. But why did it have to be Draco that they took? Hermione meant quite a lot to him, and so did Blaise and Pansy - in a weird way - so why not them?

Because the challenge is to retrieve the person that you'll miss most, said the voice again, sounding a tad like Draco's, topped off with the impatience. If Blaise, Pansy or Hermione were taken, you wouldn't nearly be as riled up as what you are now. Face it, Draco is the person you'll miss the most; that's why he's not there with you now.

Well, they definitely took Draco—taking half his bloody soul with him, Harry couldn't help but add. Yes, it was a tad bit childish to proclaim, but Harry was so pissed off he was beyond caring at that point. Harry would work his arse off to find Draco, without a reasonable doubt. Then he'd rip the hands off of anyone who tried to take Draco from his arms. No bullshit.

Pansy had offered her support in the best way she knew how, being overly sympathetic until it border-lined on irritating. She'd tried to help out as best as she could, and Harry appreciated her efforts, but he'd rather be left to his own devices if he wasn't allowed to have Draco by his side.

Lucky strolled into the room like she owned the place, (Harry decided to call the cubs lucky, because she was pretty lucky that Draco still allowed her to live with them in the first place) reminding Harry of Draco himself. Harry had to smile as he scooped up the cub, who yipped in protest, and cuddled her close to his chest. Just like what Draco would have done,. Lucky wriggled a little but decided to graciously bear the pressure of the hug.

"How am I going to do this one on my own?" Harry whispered, pressing his forehead to the fur of Lucky's back. "Draco was right there with me the first time, but now he's trapped in some ice, and I have to find a way to fight ice and snow creatures to get him out. Do you think I can do it?"

Lucky yipped again, her whole body jerking with the strength of it.

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Lucky."

Don't worry, Draco. I won't let your hard work fail now.

. . . .

The second task was upon Harry at last. As he made his way to Headmistress McGonagall, who stood with the other three Champions near the side of the Black Lake, the first thing he noticed was that the whole lake had been frozen. On top of the lake stood a few ice pillars and miniature glaciers that acted as barriers, and the mazes walls. Snow dusted the ice. If anything, getting through this task unharmed would be one hell of a major task.

The stands had been placed right over the lake, hovering in mid-air with thousands of people perched precariously there. From a birds eye view, they would get to see everything that happened in the maze.

"Welcome to the second task, Champions!" McGonagall called to them, in a cheery voice. Harry was surprised that she could even do cheery, especially not with those frown lines forever embedded in her forehead. "Something has been taken from you and put inside the maze of ice you see before you. Your challenge is to find them. But be very careful." Here is where she dropped the act and returned to her usual hawkish manner. "There are things inside this maze … things that will make your task even more challenging."

She stepped back. Placing the tip of her wand to her throat, she cast a Sonorous Charm. She talked about conduct and what would be happening for a full two minutes.

"As Mr. Potter of Hogwarts had the lowest score in the first task, he shall be going in first. Followed by Ivan Dimitrov. Then Amélie Bessette. A silencing charm will be placed on the stands so that nobody of any school can direct the champions toward their goal."

She turned to Harry. "You may enter now."

. . . .

Harry knew he was going to have an aversion to mazes after today. He ran through the maze, trying desperately not to trip on the treacherous snow and ice beneath his feet, hoping to be going the right way and to put distance between himself and Ivan. He had no idea when Ivan or Amélie would enter the maze, and that was the worst thing. He ran, heartbeat thudding in his chest, right into his first ice monster.

He had to admit that his first impression was Big Foot. The monster was tall and had white fuzz all over him, and a rather stupid face. Harry didn't hesitate casting an Incendio on it. To his surprise, it didn't work the first time. He persisted three more times in casting the spell; only then did it give up and crumple to the ground. Unconscious or dead, Harry didn't care enough to stay and check.

He had to double back at a dead end. Cursing himself, he retraced his steps and took the right turn where he'd taken the left. Giving up, he cast the Point Me spell, and found he was two hundred metres from Draco and heading in the wrong direction. The tip of his wand pointed in a north-west direction, and Harry hastened to find the right path to follow it.

He wished that Draco was in his head right now, leading him. It would have been so much better if Harry could at least just hear his voice.

Snap out of it, a voice roared in Harry head. Not Draco's, but his own. The whole point of this Task is to go in there and get him back, you fool! If you want to hear his voice so badly, then stop whining about things you can't help, and go in there and get him back!

"Point Me," he said down at his wand.

I'm right on course, he thought happily.

Chit-chit … chit-chit …. chit-chit … chit-chit …

Harry stopped in his tracks at the clicking sound. His eyes shot open to their fullest extent at the prospect of being attacked by something else. It reminded him of the clicking of arachnids pincers. He closed his eyes momentarily and hoped with every fibre of his being that he wasn't about to get attacked by a spider.

Chit-chit … chit-chit … chit-chit …

He spun around, his wand outstretched. But where was the damn thing? Every pathway that led to him was empty.

Chit-chit … chit-chit … CHIT-CHIT ...

BANG!

Harry screeched and threw himself out of the way as a wall of ice suddenly blasted apart, large boulder-sized pieces almost squashing him. Heart in his throat, he pointed his wand at the attacker. A giant ice spider loomed down on him, pincers clicking hungrily. It stood still for a second, simply looming over Harry, casting him in a shadow. It gave Harry time to think about whether to melt the bugger or transfigure it. Unfortunately, it was not time enough.

With a screech, it leapt forward. Harry barely threw himself out of the way in time.

Harry! Draco's voice screamed in his head.

As Harry fought the ice spider, he knew that his being in danger would help awaken Draco's Veela side. Would that count as a disqualification?

He dodged the spider as it came at him again, feeling the crushing pincers just over his head as he moved. He was not so lucky as to avoid harm all together; one of the spider's long legs had kicked out as it ran, and connected with Harry head on, sending him into an ice pillar. Blinking owlishly, dazed, Harry raised his head to see the spider turning toward him. If Harry wasn't scared to look into its eyes, he knew he would see fear there.

"Incendio!" Harry roared. But the spider merely stumbled, a tiny section of its body melting away. Harry gasped, gazing at it in despair. Incendio wasn't strong enough to deal with it at once. "I could really use some help now!"

Break the walls, Draco's voice filtered into Harry's head. How he was doing that remained a mystery. Bury it alive.

If this had been a different, non-life-threatening encounter, Harry would have questioned that command. But now it was either him or the Spider, and he knew which life he'd rather save. Pointing his wand at the ice walls and shouted, "Reducto!" He ran immediately as it hit; the three ice walls collapsed in a Domino Effect; one chunk of ice bigger than Harry's torso landed right where he'd been just seconds after he moved.

He ran, flinching when he heard the Spider's piercing wails of pain.

"P-point me!" Harry gasped, stopping only when he decided that he was a safe distance away from where he met the spider.

He had strayed a little from the path. That was easily fixed by taking a left, running down another path, taking another left and going an immediate right.

There he was.

Draco was encased in thick ice, looking like a sleeping angel. No one else had arrived, if the two females in two separate ice 'chambers' was anything to go by. Harry knew better this time than to believe that they were in any real danger, and he ran right for Draco. The ice around the icicle chambers rose up to form a solid wall, keeping Harry from Draco.

"Reducto! Incendio! Come on you son of a bitch, move!" Harry attempted to climb over the wall, but the ice was too slick to get a firm grip on it. "Reducto! REDUCTO!"

Remember the spells we practised, Harry! Draco's voice called to him. Remember the spells!

"Estus Sursum!" Harry said hopefully, pointing his wand at the wall. "Estus Sursum!"

The ice turned red and instantly melted back into water. Before the wall even finished melting, Harry ran through the wall to Draco, slipping on a particularly slick piece of ice and slamming against Draco's entrapment.

"Estus Sursum!" Harry cried, pointing his wand at the icicle.

It took all of fourteen seconds for the ice to melt. With a choking gasp, Draco fell forward into Harry's waiting arms.

Everything went black.

. . . .

"Mr. Potter, you were well outside the time limit," said McGonagall, standing in between the other two judges. "And because of that we're giving you 40 points—half of what you would have gotten if you'd gotten here on time."

Harry didn't particularly care at that point; Draco was in his arms, cold but safe, and that was what mattered most. "That's fine, Headmistress."

He didn't wait around to hear the other two Champions' scores. Draco shivered against him, needing instant warmth, and couldn't wait any longer. They headed for the castle, with the Slytherin dormitories in mind. Once they got there, Draco kissed Harry on the lips and headed for the showers, leaving the door open, so that he could hear Harry.

"I heard your voice in my head, you know. You didn't take that Potion before you went to McGonagall, did you?" Harry asked.

Draco blinked. "McGonagall had me under a heavy sleep Potion and a spell so I wouldn't wake up and help you." He smiled. "I remember having weird dreams with rainbows in them, like I was under Dreamless Sleep or something. I have no idea what happened in that maze, Harry. No idea at all."

"But how did I hear you, then?"

"Maybe it was your subconscious telling you what to do?" Draco suggested, arching his head back underneath the hot spray that left his skin burning. "Either way, I definitely wasn't there to help."

Harry bowed his head, pensive, and said nothing.

. . . .

Ginny was getting desperate. Three months had passed since the second task, and the third task was mere weeks away. If she wanted to make Harry hers, she was running out of time for it. But it seemed as though fate was playing with her, forcing her to avoid the issue in full.

Her life depended on making Harry hers.

. . . .

Three weeks passed, and the third task was upon them. Draco had Harry up late at night, studying and performing spells he thought would be important for the Task. When they weren't practising spells, Draco had his nose in a book to find more.

"You need to relax," Harry murmured on the night of.

"You need to shut up," Draco snapped back. "This is it, this is the third task. The person who put your name in the Goblet will choose tomorrow to attack you, I just know it. I want you prepared. They're not going to let me go with you to wherever you're going."

Harry put his lips against the shell of Draco's ear. "It's the night of the third task. Do you remember what you asked for at my initiation party?"

It took a few moments, then Draco's eyes went wide and he stared incredulously at Harry. "You're sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything, Draco. I'm ready to have you in full."

When Harry took the book and tossed it aside, taking Draco by the hands to lead him to the dormitories, there would be no going back for either of them. That was okay; Harry and Draco had quite forgotten how to turn around at this point.

Reaching the dorms, Harry had his shirt over his head and Draco's belt was unbuckled. Anyone who'd come out before they got in obediently looked the other way and pretended that they hadn't seen anything.

Afterwards, they fell asleep in each other's arms, waking up to a brand new day with no regrets.

. . . .

Draco refused to go to any classes that day, choosing to stay with Harry the whole time. He had gotten permission from Headmistress McGonagall to do so. They'd walked three times around the grounds, or so it felt like, hand in hand. When the families came in to see the champions, Harry and Draco went in to check if anyone was there for him. No one was.

"That's okay," said Harry, shrugging. "I can't expect the Weasleys to drop everything."

"You can't expect much from them," Draco muttered under his breath. He graciously took the elbow to the ribs.

"Mr. Potter!" said Professor Flitwick in his squeaky voice, running up to Harry and Draco. "It is time to get down to the Quidditch grounds for the third task."

He scampered toward the other Champions to tell them. Harry and Draco looked at each other. Without a word, Draco reached up and plucked a hair out of Harry's head, pulling a vial of the Malleus Potion out.

"I'm not taking any chances," said Draco softly. He put the hair in the Potion, and then downed it. "Go on. I'll be watching."

Harry pressed a kiss to Draco's face, then left. He didn't see the tear that trailed down Draco's cheek.

. . . .

There was no maze this time. When he got to the Quidditch grounds, there was nothing there. Harry wondered for a moment if he'd gone to wrong place. He was just about to turn away when someone called out his name. Over near the Hufflepuff stands, McGonagall stood, waiting for him. He hurried over to her just as Amélie and Ivan arrived. When they stood together, McGonagall spoke.

"This is not a task that will endanger you … not in the physical sense. What you must face is your deepest, darkest fears." Her eyes strayed over to Harry and lingered there for a moment. Harry thought he saw uncertainty in her eyes. "If you are not able to master your fears, merely send up red sparks with your wand, and the illusions will be dropped."

That's going to be a difficult one, Harry, Draco said worriedly. Your fears aren't exactly normal fears.

Thank you, Draco. I'd forgotten that, Harry replied sarcastically. Are you in the stands?

Close to. I'm with Pansy and Blaise.

"I shall leave you to prepare yourselves."

. . . .

Harry didn't get an opportunity to see Ivan's fears, but from Draco's running commentary, he knew Ivan wasn't handling it well. It took him ten minutes to vanquish whatever it was that he feared. Then he'd run off and vomited. Amélie had fainted on the spot. She never got to finish.

For a moment when it was Harry's turn, nothing showed up. Then Draco appeared. He was spread-eagled, wings outstretched, and blood covered every inch of his body. Harry could barely even see a patch of white skin for the blood. Harry gasped, fear choking him. He shook his head, wand trembling in his hand. He knew this wasn't real, that Draco was up in the stands, but he couldn't shake off the nausea and the dread of seeing Draco—beautiful, sarcastic Draco—dead.

Harry—get rid of it! That's not me! Draco shouted in Harry's mind. I'm not dying any time soon, you hear? I'm right up in the stands. If you don't get rid of it, you'll lose!

Harry raised his wand with effort, like it weighed more than it should, and whispered, "Riddikulus!"

Draco disappeared, turning into a jack-in-the-box. It evaporated, and turned into Voldemort—there were many screams at that—surrounded by a bunch of dead bodies.

No, no I killed him! Harry swayed, dismayed, on the edge of passing out. How could he have come back if I made sure he was dead? Draco, help me!

He's dead, Harry, that's not him.

Yes it is, I can see him right there! Draco, I can see him!

That's your fears, Harry. Fears are not reality unless you let them become so.

A knife appeared in Harry's spare hand. On the blade were the words: for your fears.

Harry's jaw dropped open as he looked up at Voldemort. He'd been through Death once, and now he'd have to go through it again? Biting his lip, he lunged forward, knife raised. He didn't allow himself to think as he plunged the knife into Voldemort's chest.

"You're not going to get the best of me," Harry said, seething, in the few moments where he and Voldemort were face to face. "You're dead, and you're never coming back, and you won't ever hurt me, Draco, or my friends again. I'm not scared of you."

Voldemort exploded. In his place hung the Triwizard Cup.

Over Harry's head, words in yellow smoke rose into the air; Mastering Your Fears, Conquering Your Challenges—Triwizard Champion!

Harry laughed out loud; he'd won.

. . . .

"You did brilliantly, Harry!" Draco shrieked, throwing himself into Harry's arms once they were within arms distance of each other. "I just can't believe that you had to face your fears in order to win! How brilliant is that?"

"Neither can I," said Harry, dazed.

Someone pushed into them. Harry stumbled and lost hold of Draco. It was only pure luck that they stayed on their feet.

Ginny stood there, wand outstretched, she looked enraged and demented, practically spitting with anger. Beside her was Dennis Creevey. He looked angry too, but nothing compared to Ginny. He, too, had his wand out.

"If I'd known that conquering fears would be the third task, I'd have killed you during the second," Dennis growled. Unimaginable hatred sparked in his eyes. This was not the happy-go-lucky Dennis Harry was accustomed to seeing. He looked evil. "But once again, you manage to get yourself out of everything!"

"Dennis, why?" Harry whispered. "Ginny, I can sort of understand … but you?"

"You killed Colin!" Dennis shrieked. "If you'd have been quicker in killing Voldemort, Colin would still be here!"

Harry shook his head. "There was nothing I could have done to prevent what happened. Dennis, I'm sorry. But I wasn't there to see Colin die. I wasn't the one who killed him!"

"Liar!" Dennis screamed. His face rapidly turned red from the exertion. "You knew there'd be casualties, and you still wouldn't hurry up with killing the bastard—now my brother is dead. You killed him!"

Draco put himself in front of Harry. "Leave him alone."

Dennis regarded him coldly.

Ginny shrieked with laughter. "What are you going to do to stop us?"

Dennis turned his gaze to her. "Us? There is no us … only me." Before anyone could stop him, Dennis turned his wand on her and muttered, "Avada Kedavra." He didn't look at all affected when Ginny's dead body hit the floor. He smiled at up Harry and Draco, both of whom were shocked. "She was incredibly annoying, you see."

He looked down at Ginny, her eyes reflecting the horror of her last moments, and kicked her dead body like one would a piece of trash in a gutter.

"You killed her!" Harry gasped. "You two were working together, why would you kill her?"

"I'm not going to wind up in Azkaban sharing a cell with her," said Dennis, rolling his eyes. "It's better to go for a triple murder. But the two of you … you made all this very hard. You avoided everything. Ginny was supposed to get to you, Harry. Get you alone, to herself, and then we would have killed you bloody … but with your pretty blond whore hanging off your arm, whispering pretty words in your ear, it was impossible … But now, I'll have you for myself without anyone helping you. Once and for all, your luck has run out!"

He turned his wand on Draco. In the split second before Dennis whispered the fatal words, Draco transformed. It was his duty to protect Harry and himself from harm, and that's what he was going to do. His hands turned to black claws, his face into a beak, his wings spread out of his back. He looked like a monster, and he wasn't concerned with acting like one. Dennis' eyes widened.

"You're never going to hurt anyone again," Draco promised. Then he leapt.

At least Ginny had the honour of dying quickly, Harry thought, turning away from the bloody, one-sided fight. He didn't want this to replay in his mind for the rest of his life; listening to it forever would be enough. Dennis died screaming. Dennis died with his insides turned to mush and half his liver stuffed down his throat. Draco stood up, covered in Dennis' blood, and turned back into a human. When he looked at Harry, he sighed.

"It's over."

Harry didn't care about the blood as he rushed into Draco's arms.

"It's over," he agreed.

Five days later, after explaining to Minister Shacklebolt what happened under the Veritaserum, they were free. They didn't forget about what happened to Dennis. Killing Dennis was a dark mercy, one that would lead them straight into a not-so-perfect life.

For the first time in a long time, they were happy.

They planned to stay that way.