Harry was screaming, his body seemingly on fire. He could feel his muscles rippling under his skin; it felt as if all his bits and pieces were fighting a war against each other. His wrists and ankles burned in their bonds, his struggling tearing the delicate skin, blood drenching the ropes.

Hearing a muffled feminine scream, he could only acknowledge that it was Hermione before another wave of pain swept him away.

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When the young Gryffindor woke again he was surprised to find himself in a bed, a very soft bed in a warm room lit only by the glow of the fireplace. He lay above the covers, the thick down comforter cradling him in the semidarkness. Shifting slightly he realized he was no longer bound and he was wearing pajamas, silk pajamas by the smell.

Cautiously he sat up and upon inspection, was surprised to find himself alone in the large room. He sat there a moment, bemused. He was clean, warm and relaxed. He felt safe but something niggled at the back of his brain, something told him he shouldn't feel that way.

Spotting the door he suddenly felt compelled to leave his little sanctuary. There was something out there, something that called to him.

Reluctantly he left the bed, noting idly that while the pajamas he wore were too large, they weren't like the giant sacks he got from Dudley; they were very long, as if they belonged to someone a good deal taller than him.

He opened the thick door a crack and peered into the empty hallway. He didn't really want to leave the bedroom, fearful that the serenity that now filled him would be ripped away and he'd have to face whatever unpleasant thing was still wiggling around the back of his skull.

Stepping into the hall he looked both ways, chewing his lip uncertainly. The light here was dim as well, only every other set of glass candle sconces were lit, giving the empty corridor an eerie dreamlike quality.

The feeling that pulled him from the bedroom propelled him down the hall. His footsteps made no sound, muffled as they were by the thick runner covering the dark hardwood floor. He stopped at an equally dark pair of doors. A quiet murmuring from inside seemed to drown out that niggling feeling, suffocating it into docile stillness.

Cautiously he opened one door, not entirely, but merely enough to slide his head inside; shielding himself with the wood.

It appeared to be a study, again lit only by the fireplace. Bookcases with glass doors lined the walls and a large desk sat before what he thought must be heavily curtained windows. Two cushy wing chairs stood before the fire but from where he stood he could only see one of the occupants, Lucius Malfoy.

The blonde appeared relaxed, a glass of amber liquid hung suspended from his long, elegant fingers. Harry thought he looked every inch the nobleman at rest; simple black leather knee boots, snug black trousers and a loose wine colored shirt unbuttoned to mid chest. His blonde hair fell over his shoulders like a curtain of white gold and framed that triangle of bared chest.

Harry rested his head on the edge of the door, enjoying the scene before him. For some reason the elder Malfoy was strangely fascinating.

Lucius tilted his head and seemed to be scenting the air, nostrils widening delicately before turning sharp silver eyes on him.

"Harry."

The young Gryffindor felt his breath catch as that mercury voice seeped into his pours. Lucius held out a hand to him and Harry could do nothing but go to him. He shuddered when the blonde's hand closed around his own.

He was pulled between the older man's knees and then gently turned to face the other chair's occupant. Harry gasped. Unfamiliar heat curled low in his belly. Tom Riddle sat there, whole and young again but with a power and charisma barely hinted at in his diary. Whisky eyes, chestnut hair, chiseled features; the only indication of his spiritual exile and subsequent resurrection was his unnaturally snow white skin.

Harry knew he should be terrified of this man, knew he should be equally afraid of the man behind him whose hand was even now creeping under his night shirt, but he wasn't. If he tried he could dredge up the bad memories created by these two, memories too numerous to count but something told him that era was over.

"There's something wrong, isn't there?" Harry asked softly.

"You see, My Lord," Lucius said silkily, leaning forward, "I told you the boy was smarter than he looks." The blonde rested his chin on Harry's shoulder, his chest a solid heat against the boy's back.

Voldemort's eyes darkened. Sliding forward in the chair his breath fanned across Harry's lips.

"Oh yes, My Boy," he hissed in parseltongue, "there is definitely something wrong."

Harry felt Lucius shudder against him, causing the boy to moan. He couldn't stop his head from falling back onto the blonde's shoulder as Voldemort ran his nose up the boy's throat, inhaling his scent.

The Gryffindor's breathing became more ragged. He felt like he was drowning in the sensations caused by the two Slytherins, and he didn't want to be saved. He barely heard Voldemort's next words.

"If I could just figure out what spell the old fool used."

"I know what spell he used."

Hermione's voice was like a shotgun going off in the room to Harry. He jerked his head up, still panting; nearly head butting the Dark Lord.

In the library's doorway stood Snape, Draco and Hermione. He noticed the two men were standing so close to the girl that they were touching and he wondered if she was having the same problems with her Slytherins as he was with his.

Voldemort only pulled back a few inches to look at the group with eyebrow raised. Lucius however had not moved from where he was wrapped around Harry. For his part, Harry was trying to focus on the newcomers but was having difficulty as the elder Malfoy was tracing his fingertips over Harry's lower abdomen and hips, making the boy's breathing hitch every so often. It didn't help that when he gave these little hitches Lucius would hum in approval, sending warm breaths over his neck causing his whole body to break out in goose pimples.

"Enlighten us, if you please, Miss Granger."

Harry could acknowledge that Voldemort's respectful tone surprised him but he was too preoccupied to think of why.

His friend looked down and blushed. He watched Draco slide behind the girl and wrap and arm around her shoulders. She seemed to take strength from the gesture and looked up.

"I...I don't know what it was supposed to do...My Lord," she stumbled to a stop.

"Go on," Voldemort prompted, not unkindly.

"He said Radix Acclaro."

"A revelation spell? Why?" Draco asked, puzzled.

Everyone was silent for a moment when Snape said, "I think it was a mistake. I think he was trying to banish us – the spells are similar."

It was Hermione who asked the question everyone was thinking, well everyone except Harry and Lucius.

"But something has happened. Why would a revelation spell have this...affect...on us?"

"Something about this is familiar...I've read something – For Merlin's sake Lucius, stop tormenting the boy," Voldemort snapped.

"But My Lord...he is just so luscious," the blonde replied nuzzling Harry's neck and making the younger male moan softly.

Harry watched the Dark Lord's eyes darken again as the man caressed his cheek with one hand.

"Yes," he hissed running his thumb just inside Harry's slack lips, "he most definitely is."

Snape cleared his throat delicately.

Frowning, the Dark Lord pulled away and stood. He then took Harry by the shoulder and maneuvered him into his now empty chair.

"Be good Lucius."

The blonde smirked as his Master moved away.

"You all realize that this is permanent, don't you?"

Voldemort half turned so he could see the seated pair, "What are you talking about?"

"Malfoy marriage vows are very specific...and very strict, My Lord. If they were still in effect, then touching the boy in the manner I have would have resulted in some very nasty and very immediate consequences.

"Since I know Narcissa is alive and well Luc, why are you're marriage vows no longer active," Snape asked.

"There are only two things that could cause them to dissolve, and believe me they are dissolved."

Harry shuddered again at the strange but exciting look in the blonde's eyes.

"One would be if I had no heir and Narcissa was unable to provide me with one – the standard infertility clause. The second is a little less standard, a True Mate clause." He didn't elaborate further.

Harry leaned back in the chair, watching Voldemort's eyes widen as they darted between the two seated males. The Gryffindor was still puzzled but decided to hold his tongue for now. He wasn't stupid, the implications of Lucius's statement were...intriguing.

"We are both drawn to the boy," the Dark Lord said softly. He turned to the still standing trio. "I assume you both are now attracted to Miss Granger," he asked a bit louder.

They both nodded.

Voldemort ran an agitated hand through his hair.

"I have read about this," he muttered before going to the bookcase directly behind his desk. He uttered no less than four incantations before opening the glass doors.

Harry could literally feel the chaotic emotions rolling off the man as he pulled books off the shelf, flipping through them before carelessly tossing them aside. The Gryffindor found himself standing and approaching the Dark Lord. Softly he touched the small of Voldemort's back with two fingertips. Slowly the swirl of emotions melted away. Feeling the muscles relax slightly Harry ran the whole of his hand up the Slytherin's spine and back down again before moving away and perching himself on the edge of the desk.

Voldemort merely glanced at him for a moment before returning to searching the books – albeit with more care.

Finally at the very bottom shelf, the Dark Lord gave a small sound of satisfaction. When he stood Harry saw a small black leather bound book in his white hand. Voldemort sat at the desk, elbow brushing Harry's knee. The boy couldn't stop a shudder at the contact and he watched the older man move his hand fully onto Harry's thigh, maintaining the contact.

"What is it, My Lord," Snape asked.

Voldemort looked up from the now open book and realizing he'd left the trio standing in the doorway motioned them to have a seat.

Snape quickly transfigured the empty chair into a comfy looking couch. Harry was strangely amused to notice that Draco and Snape sat so close to Hermione that the girl was practically in their laps.

Lucius quietly turned his chair around to face the desk.

"This is a copy of the journal of one Alaric Dragonsson, the last known Homo Draconis. Apparently up until about three thousand years ago when Dragons were much more prolific, their attraction to Wizarding magic led to quiet a bit of interspecies breeding."

"It's frightening to think that's even physically possible," Draco said with a grimace.

Harry couldn't stop himself, "Well can you imagine trying to say no?"

Hermione grinned while the Slytherins just looked impassive.

"Be that as it may, Alaric's journal is rather clear about some points and frustratingly vague in others if I remember correctly." He skimmed over the first few pages, "Ah, because Alaric was only a quarter dragon and his wife was a witch, in order for his children to display any Draconian traits the Radix Acclaro spell was cast on them in their infancy."

Harry frowned, "So we all have dragon blood and Dumbledore's slip of the lip activated it?"

Voldemort looked up from the book in surprise, "Very good Harry."

"I told you he was smart," Lucius smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes, "But what about the loss of homicidal urges we all seem to be experiencing."

The Dark Lord actually smiled at that before flipping further into the book, reading passages here and there. That's when Harry noticed something interesting.

"Is that book in parseltongue?"

"Indeed Harry," Voldemort replied absently, "I have the largest collection of parseltongue tomes in the world."

Harry was truly impressed as he looked at the open case of books.

"I'll have to read this again more thoroughly, but from what I remember and from what Lucius has said, I believe that Miss Granger is the mate of Severus and Draco, while you Harry are mine and Luc's."

"What?" Harry squeaked.