Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10049801.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Draco_Malfoy
  Additional Tags:
      Slash, Explicit_Language, Self-Harm, Sexual_Content, Angst, Tragedy,
      Drama, Romance
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2005-05-09 Completed: 2006-09-10 Chapters: 26/26 Words: 133558
****** Razorblade Connection ******
by DemonRogue13 [archived by HPFandom_archivist]
Summary
     When it’s all too much you find the best escape you can think of,
     even if it’s dangerous and deadly. When the world seems too much to
     bear you find your own relief. And one Harry Potter finds his relief
     in the cold steel of a dagger. No one knows what is under the mask of
     the Boy Who Lived; they don’t see what’s under the surface of his
     carefully built façade. But then two of the most unlikely people find
     out his secret or secrets as they later find out; Draco Malfoy and
     Severus Snape and their views of the Gryffindor Golden Boy change
     when they find all they thought about him to be a lie.
     Draco Malfoy’s not all he shows himself to be. Behind the sneer and
     the cold exterior he is hurting inside. With a father like Lucius
     Malfoy, his life is anything but the glamorous show he acts in. He’s
     got a hard life that no one but the Potions Master knows about. When
     he finds the one person who could possibly understand what he is
     going through and it happens to be his enemy, Harry Potter, can both
     boys put aside their animosity for each other? Or will they drown in
     their own darkness?
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
***** Crimson Relief for the Golden and Tarnished *****
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in the Harry
Potter books. J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters, places, etc.
mentioned from the book series.
Summary: When it’s all too much you find the best escape you can think of, even
if it’s dangerous and deadly. When the world seems too much to bear you find
your own relief. And one Harry Potter finds his relief in the cold steel of a
dagger. No one knows what is under the mask of the Boy Who Lived; they don’t
see what’s under the surface of his carefully built façade. But then two of the
most unlikely people find out his secret or secrets as they later find out;
Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape and their views of the Gryffindor Golden Boy
change when they find all they thought about him to be a lie.
Draco Malfoy’s not all he shows himself to be. Behind the sneer and the cold
exterior he is hurting inside. With a father like Lucius Malfoy, his life is
anything but the glamorous show he acts in. He’s got a hard life that no one
but the Potions Master knows about. When he finds the one person who could
possibly understand what he is going through and it happens to be his enemy,
Harry Potter, can both boys put aside their animosity for each other? Or will
they drown in their own darkness?
Note1: This takes place in 6th year
Warning: Slash, nothing too serious as I want to work out the friendship before
I move to a relationship, so the slash won’t be until later. But there will be
other slash material (light) but some. There will be mention of abuse, self-
mutilation, suicide attempts and alcohol. This is going to be slightly dark –
in the way of talk of morbid things.
Pairings: Ron/Hermione, Harry/Draco and other miscellaneous couples.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Razorblade Connection
Chapter 1: Crimson Relief for the Golden and Tarnished
The chill of an early November night swept the castle that was Hogwarts School
of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The sky was black in its velvet intensity and
glittering white stars were painted across the sky; a quarter moon hanging,
with a glow of milk white surrounding it. The Forbidden Forest looked even more
darkened and sinister then usual in the cold of November, like the drop in
temperature was the cause for the darkness of the feared forest and not the
animals and creatures that reside in it.
The Quidditch pitch seemed like a lonely stretch of grass as a light wind blew,
followed by the chill of November weather. But there was a solitary figuring
sitting in the middle on the pitch that banished the thought of it being
lonely. Harry Potter sat in the middle of the pitch on his invisibility cloak
that he had brought with him when he had left Gryffindor Tower at eleven. He
had offered no explanation to where or why he was leaving and no one bothered
to ask. He had walked out to the pitch after that, wanting to be alone and
knowing no one came outside when the weather was cold like this. But he loved
the cold bite of the winter winds and was not bothered too much by it.
He now sat in a black, long sleeve shirt with the words ‘I would like to see
things from your point of view, I just can't stick my head that far up my ass’
in white that clung to his lithe and lightly muscled chest and torso and baggy
dark blue jeans. He had a pair of black combat boots on his feet and he was
sitting crossed leg, his head tilted toward the sky. His right eyebrow had a
silver barbell in it with hematite balls on each end. In his hand something
glinted in the moonlight that dimly shown down on him. Feeling the weight in
his hand he remembered what he had come here for and he looked down and saw the
objected he was holding.
A butterfly knife rested in his palms; silver, four and three quarter inches,
stainless steel blade shining in the beams of the moon and the black handles
with their diamond like cuts in them glittered faintly along with the blade. It
looked deadly and beautiful at the same time.
Grabbing his wand from beside him he rolled up his sleeves and muttered
something almost inaudibly under his breath with a small wave of the wood in
his hand. And like the unveiling of a macabre painting, his arms the canvas,
red and white lines of scars appeared from wrist to the bunch in his sleeves at
the crook of his elbows. Almost every golden tanned space of flesh was marked
by a cut, jagged or straight. He set his wand aside and with the finger of his
left hand began to trace a few of the scars on his right arm.
The wind swept by him again, the coolness seeping into his skin and making the
more recent cuts sting with a pleasurable pain. He hissed lightly at the
feeling and bit his lower lip stopping the oncoming moan that wanted to burst
from his throat. Picking up the butterfly knife with his left hand, he held it
up to the moonlight and leered at it, the steel glaring back at him. He lowered
the blade to a space of flesh unmarred on his outstretched right arm, licked
his lips gently and pressed the cold blade to his skin. With a sigh he dragged
the sharp metal across the flesh.
Blood began to bloom and traveled in a gruesome mockery of a waterfall down his
arm; the blade already staining dark cherry red. He paused and this time the
moan came as the relief washed over him, taking away the cold ache inside;
filling him with an intense pleasure. A relief to the constant pain he felt.
Moving the blade up a bit, he made another cut just above the other one with
another hiss of pleasured pain. And he felt the cold aching pain withdraw a
little more, inching away from the surface like tides of an ocean lapping at
the shore and retreating back.
He sat and reveled in the feeling he was experiencing, the all too familiar
feelings that he knew only too well. And as he did the blood dripped from his
cuts staining the dying grass of the pitch, his pants, his cloak and all he
could think about was that wonderful feeling of warmth. But soon the feeling
began to fade as he knew it would and he grabbed his wand with his clean hand
and cast a cleaning spell to get rid of the blood. The cuts had stopped
bleeding and were vividly red against his golden tanned skin; more art to the
macabre painting on the canvas of his flesh.
He sighed and recast the glamour spell that he kept on; macabre painting
vanishing and smooth unmarred skin taking its place. Rolling his sleeves down
he glances at the watch on his left wrist, noting the time. It was 12:45;
almost two hours since he had left the common room and he knew, with a pang of
disappointment, that he should be getting back. So, pocketing his knife and
standing up from his sitting position, he stretched his legs out before
reaching down to grab the invisibility cloak he had been sitting on. Tossing it
around his shoulders he pulled the hood of the cloak over his head and
disappeared from view as he began to walk slowly back to the castle. He lost
himself in thought as he let his feet take him to his destination.
It was now his sixth year at Hogwarts after another terrible summer at the
Dursley’s. Through his depression over the loss of Sirius and other factors
surrounding mostly Voldemort and some issues with other things that happened
that year he had to also suffer the beatings he got from Vernon who, enraged by
the ‘freaks’ threats, took his anger out on Harry, which wasn’t anything new.
But Harry was able to find relief in the sharp edge of a knife, like he had
since before his third year. That was his secret that no one knew about because
he hid behind a mask to make sure no one knew.
But two weeks before school was to start he became fed up with the Dursley’s
and since Dumbledore and the Order had not came to get him yet and had sent
nothing stating he would be leaving, he had packed his things and left Privet
Drive. He had then gone to The Leaky Cauldron and got a room for the rest of
his stay, only Tom and the Order and his friends knowing he was there. He had
decided to take some money for himself from his Gringotts account and went to
buy himself some new clothes. Not a whole wardrobe but a nice amount for
himself. And, after much contemplation he got his right eyebrow pierced with a
couple different piercing to put in it. He also got contacts, since his glasses
were very much a hindrance.
When he went school shopping with Hermione and Ron and when he arrived at the
platform on September 1 he had let the mask he wore slip back on and once again
became Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Golden Boy of Gryffindor who always
has hope. And no one questioned him with eyes of concern and worry when he
appeared to be coping just fine. Even though inside; in his thoughts he had
lost the hope everyone seemed to believe him to have in abundance.
And since the start of term no one questioned him about the incident in the
Department of Mysteries, no one held worry or concern in their eyes wanting to
know if he was okay, because he was a brilliant actor and he didn’t give away
the fact he was hurting. He didn’t give away the fact he was cold inside with
an ache that he couldn’t seem to dispense unless he sliced open his flesh and
let the crimson liquid escape. He didn’t give any of it away and everyone
thought he was fine. Even if he paid a lot more attention to his school work
than before.
‘I’m an actor and the world is my stage and the students my oblivious audience’
Harry thought with a soft snort of amusement.
He looked up and noticed he was just ascending the stairs that led to the tower
and was mildly surprised at his ability to do this with only half his thoughts
on the task. He shrugged it off as just knowing the castle and kept walking
until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was snoring lightly in her
sleep.
He muttered the password to the portrait, the Fat Lady snorted loudly in her
sleep stirring slightly and opened up, mumbling something that sounded like
“coming in all hours” before returning to snoring, more loudly than before.
Harry rolled his eyes and stepped in, the portrait closing behind him. Scanning
the common room, which was empty as he had hoped, he made his way swiftly
upstairs to his dorm. His roommates were all sleeping soundly and Harry made
his way over to his bed, stuffed his invisibility cloak in his trunk, stripped
off his clothes and then pulled on a pair of dark green sleeping pants and
hopped into bed. He closed the curtains around his bed casting a silencing and
locking spell on the drapes as he had done since school started.
He laid on his back staring up at the ceiling of his canopy for a long time
before he finally drifted into a slumber full on nightmares not knowing that
somewhere in the lower half of the castle someone was doing the same thing he
had earlier.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Draco Malfoy, the Silver Prince of Slytherin and cold, emotionless aristocrat.
Many saw the blonde youth as a malicious, evil bully who got off of making
others miserable and unhappy. They all saw Draco as an uncaring, bigoted,
haughty bastard with no respect for anyone besides himself. And his father,
Lucius Malfoy.
But Draco wasn’t completely like what everyone saw. He didn’t, in actuality
respect his father as much as he used to, as much as he acted like he did now.
There were things in his life that drove him to strive for his fathers praise
but that in no way meant he respected the man. Only Severus Snape, Draco’s
godfather, knew the whole truth of his life growing up with Lucius as a father.
Now Draco sat in his Prefects room in a chair by the fireplace, staring into
the seductive dance of the flames. He was wearing nothing but black sleeping
pants and you could see scars on his exposed upper body and on his arms, scars
usually hid by a glamour spell when need be. In his right hand his fingers were
curled around the ebony hilt of a dagger. The hilt had a blood red rose painted
on the black surface with a thorny stem and the blade of the dagger was at
least four and half inches long and double edged. The ebony gleamed brightly in
the firelight, the blade reflecting the flames.
Pressing the sharp edge of the dagger to a spot on the middle of his forearm
over an old scar that was almost nonexistent against his pale skin, Draco
dragged the blade across his flesh with a light hiss at the relief he felt. The
blade cut neatly through the pale moonlight skin and the cherry red of his
blood trickled down his arm in dark red rivulets. He held his arm out in front
of him, dark red against moonlight white and watched as the blood pooled around
his wrist before dripping off the sides and onto the expensive carpet.
Quickly the blonde made two more incisions into his arm, dark red staining
moonlight white even more and he sighed at the pleasured pain. This was his
release from his problems, from his life. When he felt like it was all too much
and that the cold darkness he felt was about to swallow him whole. When he
became tired of acting like he had the perfect life and just wanted to show,
even if only to himself, that not everything in his life was grand and perfect.
He grabbed his wand up and cleaned up the blood he had shed. He looked at the
new cuts and sighed at the lingering feelings of relief he felt; the momentary
warmness that engulfed him, having nothing to do with the fire.
He wasn’t spoiled like everyone thought he was. His father was never satisfied
with the things he did. And when Lucius Malfoy wasn’t satisfied with his son,
then he taught his son a lesson. The beatings he had received since he was
seven years old was nothing to the Cruciatus Curse his father began to use when
he was thirteen and had used until he was arrested. No one, but Severus knew
about the horrible abuse he had suffered at the hands of a man who claimed to
be his father and the cold detachment he received from his mother.
In first year when he went home for Christmas, it wasn’t a happy one. He got a
thorough beating from his father for ‘being shown up by those pathetic excuses
for wizards and a witch, a half-blood, a Weasley and a mudblood.’ His father
had a house elf heal him before he returned to school but his, admittedly,
irrational anger toward Potter and his two sidekicks had increased. The summer
after that year was full of more beatings but he got through it. Second year,
his father had bought him and the Slytherin teams new brooms for the soul
purpose that he wanted Draco to show up Potter. Too bad he only wound up making
a complete arse of himself, getting the team and his father upset at him. At
least the team didn’t beat him and call him a worthless excuse. So Granger’s
comment about him buying his way on the team was a little to close to home and
he retaliated by calling her a mudblood. His father had been twice as hard on
him that summer and Draco didn’t think it was all because he lost a match to
Potter, but he didn’t know what else it could’ve been. And that was the summer
his father first put crucio on him.
He had picked up the habit of cutting himself after that, sometime in third
year. He enjoyed the feeling it brought him, the relief from the cold darkness
he had somehow found himself in.
Even through all this he kept up the mask he had been wearing for so long, even
after his father was arrested and put into Azkaban last year. Last summer was
the best he had had in a long time. But he didn’t hold hope it would last
because he knew his father would get out, with the help of the Dark Lord most
likely.
Draco sighed as the fire was beginning to die slightly and stood up and
stretched languidly, his lithe and sinewy form glowing lightly in the
firelight. The light muscles of his body rippled with the movement as he
stretched almost cat-like and walked from his sitting room to his bedroom and
over to his bed, wand and dagger in hand. He set his wand on his nightstand and
the dagger in the drawer and taking a vial out, before crawling into his bed,
under the black and green covers. Pulling the stopper out of the vial he downed
the Dreamless Sleep potion, set the vial on the nightstand and lay on his side,
settling in for a night free of the tortures of his dreams.
***** A Long Day; A Hard Night *****

Author's notes: Check chapter one!
===============================================================================
The Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in the Harry
Potter books. J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters, places, etc.
mentioned from the book series.
Razorblade Connection
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 2: A Long Day; A Hard Night
Harry walked into the Dining Hall with Ron and Hermione the next morning, the
latter two chatting animatedly to each other as Harry lagged a few steps behind
them. He glanced up at the enchanted ceiling noting that it was a pale blue sky
with a light scattering of wispy clouds on this Wednesday morning in November.
The trio sat down at their table, Harry opposite Ron and Hermione and next to
Dean facing the direction of the Slytherin table and the three began to pile
food onto their plates. Harry was moving a little more sluggishly than normal
and Hermione noticed as she glanced at the black haired teen.
“Harry are you okay you seem a little more tired than usual? Did you not sleep
well last night?” the brown haired girl inquired leaning slightly across the
table to look at him closely. His eyes looked a bit more tired, drooping
slightly when he normally looks wide away in the mornings and he was moving a
little more slowly than normal. She noticed it in the common room before they
left but chalked it up to not being fully awake or perhaps preoccupied. But now
that she looked again she was curious and concerned.
Harry mentally rolled his eyes at the questions asked to him. Hermione always
treated him like he was made of glass and a child at that. She seemed to think
her mothering him was okay when all he wished was that she would shut up and
leave him be.
“I’m fine Hermione, really, just a bit of insomnia last night that’s all,
nothing to worry about.” He said in that fake cheerful voice he’d been using
since having to slip back into the Boy Who Lived mask. When like that nobody
ever seemed to see anything wrong with him, which he was grateful for. In truth
he had a nightmare of combined images last night. Sirius, Cedric (Now that
everything in his life was crashing down on him he had been dreaming of the Tri
Wizard Tournament more often and with more clarity), the abuse from Vernon and
anything Voldemort related which was just a dream and not a vision last night.
“If you’re sure…” Hermione trailed off eyeing him skeptically.
“I’m sure Hermione,” he replied and threw her a bright smile that didn’t reach
his eyes. Hermione instantly smiled back at that smile, seeing her friend was
fine and not noticing the smile and the happiness was completely fake as she
turned and began chatting with Ron, her boyfriend, on his homework that he
hadn’t done.
Harry’s smile faded some, not fully, as he had to keep the mask in place and
began in on a conversation when Ron started talking about Quidditch and the
upcoming practice when they played Ravenclaw. He wasn’t acting with this
discussion since Quidditch and flying were still a part of the things he liked
to do and he was thankful the Quidditch ban was removed. Not being able to play
Quidditch would have been awful.
Soon breakfast was over and everyone was on their way to their first classes of
the day. The three Gryffindors were on their way to potions, their first class
of the day. Harry was not in the mood for Snape’s usual attitude toward him but
knew hoping for a somewhat peaceful class period was useless. He listened
absently to Hermione and Ron chatter incessantly about something as they
walked, nodding in the appropriate spots.
They walked through the dungeons until they reached the potions classroom and
walked in. There was a few other students already there of both the Gryffindor
and Slytherin variety. Hermione sat at a seat near the front off to the right
and Ron dutifully sat beside her with Harry in the next work bench.
“I wonder who that greasy git will pair us with today,” Ron muttered with a
scowl on his face. Harry nodded his agreement to this comment. Since coming
back this year, Snape had made it well known that he was pairing people up
almost every other class, or when the potion required two people, to work
together.
“Ron! That’s a professor you’re talking about and I think pairing us up is a
good idea. If you took time to actually pay attention you might be doing better
in potions,” Hermione scolded with a stern look at the red head. They had heard
this speech since the beginning of the year when the looming bat known as Snape
began partnering them up.
As Ron and Hermione argued the other students began filing in and taking seats
until the whole class was there waiting on Snape to arrive. In a swirl of black
robes that snapped dramatically behind him the black eyed potions master came
into the room and quickly silence descended.
“You will be working in pairs today,” Snape began without preamble, casting his
dark eyes around the room. “You will be doing the Pulpa Plaga potion. Can
anyone tell me what that potion does?” There was sarcastic hint to his voice as
he said this. Hermione’s hand went up before he even finished the sentence
along with a few others but Snape steadily ignored them and looked directly at
Harry before smirking.
“Potter, tell me, what does the Pulpa Plaga potion do?”
Harry inwardly felt himself smirk at this but kept a blank face outwardly. What
Snape didn’t know was that the Gryffindor had been studying potions to make
sure he knew what he needed to.
Just as Snape’s smirk was widening, thinking the black haired teen didn’t know
the answer, Harry spoke.
“Pulpa Plaga is a minor flesh wound potion used in cases where the flesh wound
isn’t too dire. It can be either drank or poured into the wound but most
effective is being poured into the wound so it mingles with the blood.” Harry
stated voice flat and emotionless. Snape looked fit to burst a blood vessel and
the rest of the class was silent staring at the Boy Who Lived like they didn’t
know who he was.
Snape regained his composure and glared calculatingly at Harry, that ever-
present spark of contempt shining. Looking at the teen he smirked again. “Lucky
guess Potter, but can you tell me the name of the major flesh wound potion and
its use?”
“That would be the Mortiferus Pulpa Plaga potion, or Fatal Flesh Wound potion
that works on more dangerous flesh wounds. Wounds that have a more likely
chance of killing a person and can only be of use poured into the wound;
drinking would have no affect other than a case of nausea because of one
ingredient difference; two drops of basilisk blood is used in this potion and
when made right the other ingredients counter the deadly affect the blood would
normally have.” There was a twitch at the corner of Harry’s mouth for the smirk
he wanted so badly to toss at Snape but they did nothing more than twitch.
Snape seemed to have a hard time processing what had just occurred. His eyes
were wide and his mouth in a tight line with a faint angry flush to his face.
The students seemed no better, staring at Harry with unattractive gapes. Like
open mouthed bass.
“That…is…correct, Mr. Potter. Although I don’t know how you knew that
considering you’re abysmal at potions,” Snape gritted out through clenched
teeth knowing very well that the wretched Potter boy had improved some this
year. “I’ll put you into pairs and you are to do the Pulpa Plaga potion in your
text books on page 53. You will NOT complain about who I put you with. Partners
will be: Greengrass and Brown, Bulstrode and Patil, Weasley and Thomas, Crabbe
and Goyle, Parkinson and Finnigan, Granger and Zabini,” with a malicious smirk
at Harry. “And Potter and Malfoy. Now get to work!” He barked and moved to his
desk.
There were multiple groans throughout the room but a glare from Snape stopped
that. Ron and Hermione sent Harry sympathetic smiles as they all moved to sit
with there partners. Harry sat next to Draco silently as he pulled out his book
and supplies.
“Try not to screw up Potter; this isn’t only your grade on the line. Merlin
only knows why Professor Snape put us together,” the blonde muttered as he,
too, got out his supplies looking disdainfully at Harry.
“I know this isn’t only my grade Malfoy, lets just do the potion with as little
talking as possible,” Harry said curtly, not in the mood to trade insults with
the boy. The Slytherin sneered lightly at him but settled down and both began
to work on the potion. Harry took the job of coating the cauldron in lavender
oil as the instructions stated to do first as Draco set the fire and began
crushing up the snake fangs. They worked in silence preparing the ingredients
for the potion.
Once the ingredients were all prepared they got to work on making the potion,
only talking when something needed to be added or the potion needed to be
stirred.
Snape sat at his desk working on grading papers as the students went about
their work. The class passed slowly with only the sound of hushed talking and
the bubbling of cauldrons. When there were only ten minutes left to class Snape
stood from his desk and began stalking around the room, looking into each
pair’s cauldron. When he reached the work table that Ron and Dean were at he
looked into the cauldron and sneered at the two Gryffindors.
“Mr. Weasley, Mr. Thomas, what color is your potion supposed to be?” Snape
asked with a condescending lift of his eyebrow. Ron and Dean looked at each
other and swallowed before looking around them. Spotting the cauldron next to
him which Hermione and Blaise Zabini were working on, Ron looked back at the
potions master.
“Uh, it’s supposed to be blue Professor,” the red head muttered.
“And what color is your potion?” Snape asked and smirked haughtily.
“It’s, well, uh, greenish blue, sir,” Dean answered in a small voice.
“And do you know why your potion is greenish blue and not blue?” There was that
condescending tone again, accompanied by a pointed glare. Both boys looked at
each other, completely lost about what they did wrong before looking back at
the potions master.
Snape smirked even more at this. “Ten points from Gryffindor each. Honestly,
how you two managed to get into this class this year I will never know. Your
attempt at making potions is pathetic.” Snape spat before moving on. Finally he
came to the last pair, which happened to be Harry and Draco and looked into
their cauldron. The potion was the perfect blue it was supposed to be, a clear,
navy blue.
Snape’s lip curled slightly in disdain at the fact that the potion appeared to
be perfect. Taking the ladle and scooping up some on the potion, he saw it was
the right viscosity as well. Replacing the ladle he glared heatedly at Harry.
“I’m sure Mr. Malfoy did most of the work Mr. Potter,” Snape said, still
glaring at Harry. He knew this wasn’t true though because he had covertly
watched the boy as the pair worked and saw he put in as much help as his
godson. And he couldn’t stand the fact that the Potter boy was at least semi-
talented at potions and there was really nothing he could do about it. The brat
even did well when working on his own with potions in class. “Five points from
Gryffindor for letting Mr. Malfoy do most of the work. And you’d better show up
for you detention tonight.” He snapped before sweeping (sulking) away to the
front of the room, robes billowing.
“Bottle some of your potion and bring it to the front. Also, you are to write a
two foot essay on the potion; the Preparation, the process, the ingredients and
their properties due on Monday. No Excuses! You’re dismissed,” He barked.
In a flurry of movement the students began bottling their potions and packing
up their things. Draco ladled some of the potion into a vial and put a stopper
in it before taking it up to the front as Harry was emptying the cauldron. They
made it back to the work table and packed up their belongings in silence,
completely ignoring one another. Just as Draco was about to leave he looked at
Harry and smirked.
“Good job not messing up the potion Potter,” he said mildly condescending
before walking out with Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise following him. Harry glared at
the blonde’s back as he left, sighed and joined Ron and Hermione as they were
leaving the class. It looked to be a long day ahead.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
That night at 9:00 Harry began his walk to the potions classroom for his
occlumency lesson. He had had to resume taking the lessons with Snape because
of a particularly nasty Voldemort episode on Halloween, on Dumbledore’s
insistence. He was having the lesson two nights a week and this was the second
week of their meeting. He wasn’t happy about having to take them with Snape
again but he was slightly more confident than last year about it. During the
summer and his time at the Leaky Cauldron he had figured it might be best to
try and learn occlumency, so he had bought books on the subject and read them
to get a clearer understanding on the skill. After reading the books he had a
bit more understanding of the subject but wasn’t as skilled as he should be.
Therefore the episode on Halloween and its subsequent consequence of occlumency
lessons with Snape.
He made his way through the dungeons silently, preparing himself for the night
to come. He had decided to discard his school robe for the night and now wore
slightly baggy black jeans that clung in the right places and a short sleeved
dark red shirt with ‘I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it’
written in black on the front that hugged his chest and stomach. He was sure
tonight would be a hard night and that Snape would be unbearable.
He finally arrived at the classroom, took a deep calming breath and knocked
lightly on the door.
“Enter.” A cold, familiar voice said from inside and, with another deep breath,
Harry entered the room and shut the door behind him, then with a small scowl
turned to the greasy potions master. “You’re late,” Snape drawled, a healthy
amount of disdain in his voice. Harry looked at his watch, a new one he had
bought over the summer and looked at the time. It read 9:35, meaning he was
five minutes late, and Snape didn’t like anyone to be late on his time.
Bastard.
“Sorry Professor,” Harry muttered and tried his hardest to sound like he
halfway meant it. Instead there was a slightly sarcastic tone to it that shot
any chance of sounding sincere.
“Let’s get started then Potter,” Snape barked, stood from behind his desk and
lifted his wand, which Harry just realized had been in his hand which was at
his side. Harry knew Snape would give him no warning or time to prepare himself
and was immensely relieved he had taken time before coming and on the walk
there to prepare his mind, not to mention yesterday when he didn’t have a
lesson.
“Legilimens!” Snape exclaimed, wand pointed at the Gryffindor. He entered into
his mind and Harry watched as small memories played in front of him. Dementors
in an alley, his Uncles face purple in rage and shaking in anger, Umbridge’s
face round and toad-like, a bloody hand with words carved into it. Harry tried
to think and with all his power pushed his thoughts into the direction of
shielding his mind, remembering what he read.
Suddenly Snape was stopped from the viewing of memories as a large, lush, green
forest appeared around him. Shocked he looked around him at the place he found
himself in. Some parts of the forest he could see were heavily in shadows,
scattered throughout the greenery. Drawing out of the boys mind and ending the
spell he looked at the blacked haired teen in front of him, eyes holding a
calculating look. He was grudgingly interested in what had happened. In hadn’t
happened last week when they had started the lessons again and he wasn’t sure
how the insolent brat had summoned this defense into his mind.
“What did you do?” He asked in a voice not quite curious though not bored
either.
Harry looked somewhat unfocused; eyes glazed slightly, sheen of sweat on his
brow, a small tremble in his limbs that was almost unnoticeable. The exertion
it took to defend his mind had taken a bit of his energy. He wasn’t well
practiced at putting it up yet, no matter keeping it up all the time. He looked
at Snape from where he was kneeling on the floor once he had a bit more balance
and remembered the question he had asked.
“I, uh, was shielding my mind,” Harry answered, a hint of a question in the
statement as if he wasn’t entirely sure. And he wasn’t. He remembered reading
that sometimes people who wanted to or had to learn occlumency had problems
shielding their minds and that, for some, picturing a type of defense was best.
The book, Occlumency: Keeping the Unwanted Out by Sech Barbin had stated that
sometimes people use things like fire, thorns or stone as walls to block out
intrusions. Another book, Blocking the Mind by Larson Fimble, had said that
envisioning something you thought you could hide yourself in, in your mind, was
a good way to help in defending your mind from attacks.
When he had read this he had thought to himself about what would hide him. He
had been torn when he thought about it. On the one had he had an inexplicable
liking to the shadows and had thought that was a good way to hide himself in
his mind. But then he thought about how he saw pictures of lush forests and how
those could hide him just as easily. It seemed his subconscious had made the
choice for him and combined the two into a wonderful defense for his mind.
“Where did you learn to do that Potter? The forest that came up?” Snape asked
still with a calculating frown on his face.
Harry frowned some before thinking how best to tell the man. “Over the summer I
bought some books on learning occlumency and they had some good advice that I
figured was worth trying.” He answered and shrugged his shoulders
indifferently. There was an unspoken comment in that statement: They had some
good advice that I figured was worth trying that you didn’t mention, you
bastard.
Snape either didn’t pick up on it or he ignored it as he quirked an eyebrow at
the boy. He couldn’t believe Potter had picked up a book and actually learned
something and put it to good use. Granted, the brat wasn’t skilled with his
shielding but he could be with a little training and time.
“Potter, what books did you get? You were barely sufficient in shielding your
mind properly.” Snape drawled as he watched the Gryffindor who had straightened
up from his leaning position. Harry looked at Snape blankly for a moment, head
starting to hurt with the beginnings of a headache coming. Raising his hand to
his head, he lightly began to massage his temple with his fingers.
“It was three of them, the books I bought. Blocking the Mind by Larson Fimble,
Occlumency: Keeping the Unwanted Out by Sech Barbin and Defense for the Mind by
Ranton Forest.” Harry stated with a quirked eyebrow.
“Well those books should adequately aid you in actually SUCCEEDING to block
your mind,” The potions master sneered condescendingly. “Now let’s try again.”
He poised his wand, arching a brow coolly at the teen. Harry quickly thought of
that forest again with its shadowy parts, thought of it protecting his mind and
secrets. “Legilimens!” Snape intoned.
Harry felt the invasion into his mind and saw what the greasy bastard was
seeing and gritted his teeth, eyes closing, as images flew by him. He saw
himself flying on his broom, he saw himself again at the Gryffindor table
laughing with his friends and he could see the way it didn’t reach his eyes. He
squeezed his eyes even more tightly together and focused all his thoughts onto
that beautiful forest with its shadowed areas.
Snape was watching the memories until, once again, that lush green forest
materialized in front of him and the memories and images stopped. He vaguely
noticed that the forest appeared quicker this time before he was pushed out of
Potter’s mind. He stumbled with the force of it before catching himself on the
edge of his desk and straightening, a scowl on his face.
Harry was kneeling on the floor breathing heavily, brow creased, fists clenched
and eyes shut. He felt that headache from earlier increase slightly, a dull
throb pounding in his head. After a few minutes he regained his bearings and
stood up, nodding briefly at Snape.
“That was slightly more adequate than the last time. Let’s try again,” Snape
drawled in an indifferent voice.
And so they went. For the next hour and a half they worked; Snape entering
Harry’s mind and Harry erecting that forest and pushing him out. He got
slightly better each time, erecting the forest and pushing Snape out more
quickly. When 10:45 came around they finally stopped. Snape lowered his wand
with a small barely noticeable breath and Harry, who was on all fours on the
floor, hands clenched into fists, eyes shut tight had harsh pants escaping him.
“That’s all for tonight Potter, be here Monday night at 9:00.” Snape said as he
looked at the Gryffindor who was just standing up shakily. Harry nodded his
head slowly, that headache now a full blown migraine and left the potions
classroom they had been working in. He started his walk back to Gryffindor
Tower, walking slowly. He was tired, his head hurt, his knees and hands hurt
and all he wanted was to get to the tower and sleep. Finally reaching the tower
he mumbled the password to the Fat Lady and walk in to find Ron and Hermione
waiting for him.
“How was it Harry?” Hermione asked with a worried looked as she caught his
haggard appearance. He was mildly annoyed by her worry; like he was a child who
couldn’t tend to himself.
“I’m fine Hermione, just tired.” He muttered and began walking toward the
stairs.
“You sure mate? You really look bad,” Ron called after him.
“Yes guys, I’m fine just need some sleep see you in the morning,” he said he
kept walking.
“Hold up mate, I’m coming up to.” Ron said and the three said there good
nights. Harry walked into the dorm and changed clothes, putting on a pair of
sleep pants and a shirt before slipping in and falling asleep.
***** Trouble in the Trio *****

Author's notes: Check chapter one
===============================================================================
Note: Parseltongue will be underlined when spoken
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 3: Trouble in the Trio
It was Friday and the end of the week and Harry, Ron and Hermione were just
leaving greenhouse four where they had Herbology with Hufflepuff, heading on
their way to lunch. Harry was quiet as they made there way to the castle, the
crisp November air a welcome chill. Hermione and Ron kept glancing at him
worriedly then glancing at each other. Harry didn’t look to good. He had looked
extremely tired that morning with dark circles under his eyes and a small
downwards pull too his lips. His eyes weren’t lit that morning looking dull and
emotionless. Harry hadn’t bothered putting up his mask, he was just feeling way
too depressed that morning to care.
Ron and Hermione had noticed the depressed state of the boy and had asked him
early what was wrong but he had brushed them off with a flippant excuse of
being tired and not sleeping well the night before. Neither had believed him,
even when he tossed them a small reassuring grin. When Hermione asked Ron if
Harry had talked to him about what was wrong, Ron told her that he hadn’t. That
he was mourning over Sirius, obviously, and needed a little space.
Hermione wasn’t so sure that was all of it, though. She had wanted to talk
about Sirius to Harry last year before they left for the summer, letting him
know she was there for him, but she didn’t getting the chance to. Ron had said
maybe it was best to give him a bit of space first and she agreed thinking it a
good idea, figuring she would talk to him when he got back to school. She
hadn’t, though, being too caught up in her blossoming relationship with Ron.
Then she saw that Harry had seemed to being coping on his own and not wallowing
in guilt, like she thought he would be, and decided she would leave him be
until she saw he might need her and Ron.
As they were approaching an entrance from the courtyard, Hermione looked to her
black haired friend, eyes full of worry. “Harry, what’s wrong? I don’t think
its all being tired. Have you been sleeping at all these last few nights?” She
asked her worry reflecting in her voice that had taken a slightly mothering
tone.
Harry growled silently to himself. He didn’t want Hermione’s constant mother-
hen behavior. He could take of himself, thank you very much. He knew she was
only being the friend that she is but he couldn’t deal with it. He remembered
at the end of last year after the Department of Mysteries fiasco when she would
send him these looks, eyes full of concern and worry but with an exasperation
that seem to say ‘I told you so Harry, you should have listened to me’ and he
just couldn’t take it. He took a deep, calm breath and turned to look at her.
“I’m fine Hermione; really, I’m just tired like I said. And no I haven’t been
sleeping well these past few nights but its nothing to worry about,” He said
managing a reassuring tone and a smile.
“But if there was something wrong you’d tell us wouldn’t you Harry? If there
was something bothering you or something to worry about?” She asked pointedly.
“Yes Hermione,” Harry answered smiling bigger and more falsely, knowing very
well he was lying and feeling nothing but a cold indifference about the whole
thing.
“Harry, mate, is the reason you haven’t been sleeping have anything to do with
You Know Who’s?” Ron asked in a hushed voice, eyes wide and slightly panicked.
“No Ron, nothing to with Voldemort,” Harry answered, purposefully ignoring the
flinch his friend made at the name. Hermione tossed Ron and exasperated look
and began a rant about how he shouldn’t fear a name and Harry was saved from
the questions thinking cynically, that Hermione had finally graduated from
stuttering out the Dark Lord’s name.
They walked into the Great Hall and over to their seats at the Gryffindor table
to start lunch. Harry sat at his place and ate his food somewhat mechanically,
not really hungry. He had woken up sometime in the middle of last night from
another of his constant nightmares. This one was a jumble of Sirius falling
beyond the veil and Vernon beating him bloody. He hadn’t gone back to sleep
after that feeling the depression and cold emptiness hit him hard. He had
gotten his butterfly knife out and sliced a few cuts into his arm but the
depression and emptiness carried on too the next day, like he knew it would.
He had been too drained to care that he didn’t have his mask in place and went
about his day, giving any who asked a flippant excuse of not sleeping the night
before. Lunch passed in a daze for him, he got caught up in a discussion of
Quidditch with the other guys, looking for all the world like the tired teen he
said he was.
When lunch was over the trio went their separate ways; Hermione to her ancient
runes class, Ron to the library to work on a paper they had due in potions and
Harry, after telling his red haired friend he would meet him and Hermione in
Transfiguration, went out to the lake to sit.
He was feeling the heavy wait of depression press in on him as he sat on a rock
by the lake. He remembered the dream last night and sighed. He had come to
terms with the fact that Sirius’s death wasn’t completely his fault. Oh, he
knew some of the blame was on him. If he hadn’t rushed off to save his
godfather, if he would have taken the time to THINK instead of being so rash
and foolish Sirius would still be here. He had no illusions that he wasn’t at
least partially at fault.
Like with the Tri-wizard tournament back in his fourth year and the day Cedric
Diggory died. He knew it wasn’t his fault and he had come to terms with it. He
wasn’t the one to kill Cedric and while, yes, he had offered to grab the cup at
the same time and felt guilty about that, it wasn’t his fault that Cedric was
killed.
He vowed to himself over the summer after Sirius, that he would try to think
things through first. No more needlessly putting his self or others in danger.
It was time, maybe, he had thought, to take the Sorting Hat’s advice. He would
do well in Slytherin, it had said? Well maybe thinking more Slytherin-like was
his key. He had denied the accusation that he should be a Slytherin since first
year. So using some of that Slytherin cunning may benefit him more than he
thought.
He had thought, more than probably healthy, he admitted on what he learned when
he first came to this world. All witches and wizards who were bad or would turn
bad went to Slytherin, the house of evil and dark people. At first he believed
this whole-heartedly; people were only telling him for his own good, he had
innocently thought. But that changed in his third year some, though no one knew
it. He had thought: Well, if all bad witches and wizards went to Slytherin
house then why had Peter Pettigrew been in the noble house of Gryffindor. He
betrayed his parents to the Dark Lord, after all.
But he didn’t dwell too much on it at the time. Not until fourth year, after
finding out Barty Crouch Jr. was posing as Mad-Eye Moody did he begin to think
about it again. When he had the time he had asked Sirius if he knew anything
about Crouch Jr. and Sirius had graciously told him what he knew about the man.
Including that Crouch Jr. had been a Gryffindor when he went to school.
Pettigrew and Crouch, both were Gryffindors who became Dark Wizards and Death
Eaters and that had gotten Harry thinking.
He had taken it upon himself to research, yes actually research, history and
find out if any other former student of Hogwarts went dark and what house they
were in. it became a mild obsession at that point, to find this information
out. To him, all that was said about all Dark Wizards coming from Slytherin was
slowly being torn down in front of his eyes. He was finding the world wasn’t so
black and white, dark and light, good and evil and he was left feeling lost.
He had started the research only to have to postpone it because of the events
of fifth year, only to pick it up again in the summer after fifth year to have
something to occupy his thoughts and because he was generally interested in
knowing. And after reading and finding out some things he became less lost and
understood things more now that he had his own personal opinions and not those
of others. That’s when he began to think that maybe if he used a bit of that
Slytherin side of him, not becoming a Death Eater by any means, but being more
cunning and ambitious like many of the Slytherins he may actually be less rash
and reckless and more level-headed.
He had been reluctant at first to embrace any Slytherin quality, no matter how
much understanding old habits die hard and all that, but realized, after much
thought, that he had been using cunning and ambition already since his first
adventure in his first year. So he figured he would try to be a little more
Slytherin-ish and save his friends from needless danger. Think and plan,
instead of rushing in foolishly.
Coming out of his daze he noticed it was turning dark out and glanced at his
watch. It was ten minutes until dinner, meaning he missed Transfiguration that
afternoon. Swearing half-heartedly, he stood and made his way slowly back to
the castle. Just as he was about to make his way to the Great Hall he decided
he didn’t feel like being confronted by his housemates just yet and went to the
kitchens and got something to eat. After eating quickly and chatting with Dobby
he left and made his way back to the Tower. The others would be at dinner for
at least a half hour more and he figured he might as well enjoy the silence
now. Hermione would come down on him the second she saw him.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Hermione and Ron were making there way back to the Tower with the rest of their
house after dinner.
“I’m telling you Ron there’s something wrong with Harry! He didn’t seem fine
today anyway and then he skipped class? There’s something wrong and he’s not
telling us,” Hermione complained.
“Hermione, has it ever occurred to you that you may be overreacting here? Maybe
he fell asleep wherever he went after lunch and lost track of time. And if
something was wrong wouldn’t it show, I mean, like he would look worried or
upset or something!” Ron said, exasperation tinting his voice.
They stopped briefly as they waited for the others in front of them to walk
through the portrait hole before following through. Hermione looked around the
common room and spotting Harry in a shadowed corner, tugged on Ron’s sleeve and
the pair made their way over to their friend sitting in chairs that surrounded
the black haired boy.
“Where were you during Transfiguration Harry? Why did you skip class?” Hermione
asked bluntly, giving him a piercing look. Harry knew this was coming but it
still startled him some.
“I was out by the lake and I didn’t skip I just lost track of time as I was
thinking,” Harry replied looking up from the potions essay he was working on.
He closed the parchment in the book and looked to his friends.
“See Hermione, I told you that was probably what happened!” Ron exclaimed
rolling his eyes to Harry. Hermione wasn’t convinced and narrowed her eyes
suspiciously, looking at his face carefully.
“Harry is something wrong? You know you can talk to us right and we’d be there
for you,” she said, her worry from earlier returning.
“I know Hermione and I’m fine, nothing to worry yourself over,” Harry tossed
her a small smile.
She wasn’t bought this time and with a deep breath she asked, “Does this have
anything to do with Sirius, because Harry if your depressed about that you can
talk to us. Is that what those sleepless nights were about? Nightmares about
Sirius? You can talk to us Harry!” She said with a gentle, cautious tone, like
she was trying to calm a dangerous animal.
Harry looked at Hermione with an unreadable look and she was vividly reminded
of last year when Harry had been mad at her and Ron for not writing to him.
“Maybe I don’t want to talk about it!” Harry snapped glaring at the brown
haired girl.
Hermione and Ron looked at Harry, on guard and alert. This was the way Harry
had been last year, even before Sirius died and Harry was particularly scary
when he was angry. Hermione gathered that Gryffindor courage while staying
cautious of Harry’s anger.
“Harry we’re your best friends! You can talk to us, let us help you Harry,”
Hermione said ignoring the gentle hand shaking her arm and the attention they
were starting to gain from the others in the common room.
Harry was shaking with barely suppressed anger, his face flushed and breathing
heavy. He was upset with Hermione for bringing this up, for her mothering him
again, for her asking him what was wrong and not staying among those who were
blissfully ignorant of his inner struggle. And he snapped at her.
“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you Hermione; maybe I don’t want to discuss what
happened with you! Why don’t you go back to snogging Ron and stay out of my
business,” He yelled, chest heaving, eyes blazing.
“Hey don’t talk to her like that Harry, she’s just trying to help! There’s no
need to be jealous,” Ron shouted back, face red and looking furious.
“Harry I’m just worried about you,” Hermione sobbed, tears gathering in her
eyes and trickling slowly down her cheeks. Harry felt that cold indifference
again and snarled at the pair.
“Than stop trying to help because I don’t want it and worry about something
else! Do I complain every time one of you is upset? No! So, don’t bug me just
because I’m not in a good mood!” He yelled and with that stood up and went up
to the dorm.
Ron and Hermione sat in silence looking at each shocked as they heard the
frantic rummage from the boys’ dorms. The whole common room was silent looking
from the pair to the stairs and back, dumbstruck. Then Harry came stomping back
down the stairs, his face with an icy look on it and left out the portrait hole
without another word leaving a tower full of shocked and confused Gryffindors.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Furious, Harry had gathered a few things from his dorm before taking off and
going to the place he could honestly be alone. He walked down to the first
floor of the castle just above the dungeons and walked up to a slab of ordinary
looking wall. Making sure no one was around he hissed something in
parseltongue. The wall seemed to shimmer and become slightly transparent and he
walked through, the wall becoming solid behind him and torches lighting along
the walls. The small hall was about fifteen feet long and four feet wide and he
walked the distance until he came to an ebony wood door with a snake head
baring its fangs made of silver for the door knob and opened it.
He walked in closing the door behind him and sighed, his breath coming out in a
gust. The room he was in was the sitting/common room. The floor was covered by
a deep emerald green carpet edged in gold. Directly across the room from the
door was a huge fireplace that had two snakes on each end of the ledge in poses
like they were ready to strike. One snake was made of obsidian with emerald
eyes and the other was made of ivory with sapphire eyes. Above the fireplace a
large moving picture of a black and red runespoor hung, its bluish black eyes
shining.
A plush green three person couch with gold lining sat in front of the fireplace
with two black leather armchairs to each side and a coffee table of dark
mahogany wood was placed in the center of it all. There was a smaller table to
the right of the couch also in dark mahogany. A chandelier with candles made of
silver hung from the ceiling, lighting the room sufficiently. The candles were
everlasting, never melting or burning out.
He bypassed this after lighting the fire and walked to the door to the right.
He had seen everything before having found this room one night after a night
nightmare in early October. This room was a library/study room with two walls
being filled floor to ceiling with books. From the ceiling hung the same
chandelier like in the sitting room, also made of silver. The floor was covered
in a black carpet with emerald and gold specks scattered across it. A large
desk of a light colored wood resided in the room that had vines carved into it.
A high backed, soft, black leather chair went with the desk in the room. Harry
walked over and sat at the desk, spreading his work across the surface. There
was a door behind the desk that led to a medium sized room that housed a
potions lab with potions ingredients of all kinds; rare, common, dark and
illegal. The room had brackets with torches in all four corners of the room.
The wall to the right was stacked with potions ingredients and a large cabinet
to the left held even more ingredients. A work table in the middle of the room
sat, ready for a potion to be made.
Looking to the two walls of books Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed.
“Show me any books that talk about the Pulpa Plaga and Mortiferus Pulpa Plaga
potion,” he said clearly, voice weary. Immediately, five books came to him and
landed neatly stacked on the corner of the desk. He sighed again and tried to
get some work done. After half an hour of reading the same line over and over
he gave up, packed his things up and walked back into the sitting room dropping
in the couch in front of the fireplace and tossing his bag in the chair.
“What_is_wrong_Harry?” A voice hissed from above him. Looking up Harry looked
into the bluish black eyes of the runespoor painting.
“Nothing_really_just_a_bad_day_is_all” He replied with a heavy sigh.
“You’re_lying,” the right head of the snake, Erinyes, retorted nonchalantly.
“What_is_really_wrong,_young_snake_talker?"
Harry sighed again and glared half heartedly at the right head of the snake.
The critic, who always seemed to know when he was not being truthful. Sometimes
it really irked him.
“I’ve_been_having_a_bad_day,_like_I_said._I_didn’t_get_much_sleep_and_then_Ron
and_Hermione_decided_that_I_need_to_talk_about_what_was_bothering_me_and_that
turned_into_a_huge_argument_because_Hermione_won’t_mind_her_own_damn_business
and_Ron_goes_along_to_please_her_because_that’s_his_girlfriend._And_then_he
gets_pissed_at_me_when_I_yell_at_her_to_stay_out_of_MY_fucking_business_and
says_I’m_jealous,_which_I’m_not!” Harry blurted out heatedly, having just
babble on telling the snakes everything. It didn’t even bother him anymore that
he confided in a portrait of a runespoor, having done so a couple other times.
“Are_you_sure_your_not_feeling_the_least_bit_left_out?” the left head of the
snake, Atropos, asked skeptically.
“No_I’m_not_feeling_left_out,_I_like_being_alone_and_with_them_being_a_couple
its_easier_for_me_to_be_alone_since_their_usually_wrapped_around_each_other,”
Harry answered and then grimace. “That_was_a_bad_mental_image.”
“Well_what_had_you_so_tired_and_irritable_to_begin_with?” Morpheus, the middle
snake head asked curiously.
Harry sighed again. ‘I must truly be loosing it to be confiding in a portrait
of a snake so much.’ He thought, shaking his head lightly. “I_was_tired_because
of_nightmares_and_those_combined_with_my_lack_of_sleep_made_my_mood_a
little…annoyed,” he said.
“Well_sleep,_young_snake_talker,_and_may_your_rest_be_peaceful,” Morpheus
hissed lightly and Harry nodded, said goodnight and headed to the door on the
left.
The bedroom was large with a black carpet covering the floor. A king sized four
poster bed of dark mahogany wood occupied the room. The drapes of the bed were
a dark blue almost black edged in gold with black sheets, a dark emerald
blanket edged in gold and black and green pillows. The posts of the bed were
carved like snakes; jaws clamped around the foot of the bed. The front of the
foot on the bed had vines carved in it. A dark mahogany nightstand sat to the
right of the bed with three drawers with gold handles. To the right of the room
two ebony wood doors with gold knobs opens into a large closet. Five feet from
the closet on the left is a medium sized fireplace. A dark wood dresser sits to
the right of the door to the room. To the left of the room a black wood door
leads to a bathroom.
The bathroom was huge with a bathtub the size of a medium sized pool was placed
in the floor to the right of the room with several taps of things for a bath.
To the back a sectioned off part was a shower that had three showerheads in it
and was enclosed by a frosted glass wall with a glass door. The sink was made
of white marble that had silver fixtures and a mirror above the sink. A silver
chandelier of candles hung in the middle of the bathroom. The walls of the room
were cream with gold accents, the floor was tiled in black iridescent tiles and
the tiles surrounding the tub were emerald green. A toilet sat in the space
between the shower and the sink. A small door in the corner to the right of the
tub held towels, wash cloths soap, etc.
After changing clothes Harry laid down in the large bed before drifting off
into a dreamless sleep.
***** The Watching Dragon and Tension in the Trio rises *****

Author's notes: Check chapter one
===============================================================================
Note: this is going back to Draco during the time chapter 3 was focused on
Harry and then in will move on. Draco’s chapter won’t be as long as the one
focused on Harry.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 4: The Watching Dragon and Tension in the Trio rises
It was lunch time and Draco was on his way to the Great Hall from History of
Magic with Crabbe and Goyle following him as he talked to Blaise. He and Blaise
hadn’t been the best of friends in the beginning, not until third year did they
actually begin to become what they were now. Draco could honestly call the dark
haired boy beside him his friend, which was something considering most he
considered nothing more than casual acquaintances.
“Seriously though, can History of Magic get anymore boring than it is now?”
Blaise was ranting about their last class. Again. Draco found it both amusing
and annoying as Blaise complained about this class often, but he couldn’t help
to agree with the other Slytherin.
“Yes I know Blaise. Maybe if they had a more interesting professor people would
stay awake in the class,” Draco said, his voice mild with sarcasm.
“Well they probably wouldn’t but it would be better than a ghost who doesn’t
speak in anything but a monotone,” Blaise replied with a nod of his head.
Draco shook his head at Blaise’s antics as they continued on. He was thinking
how tired he felt. It was the type of tired not from lack of sleep but from
life itself. He didn’t show it outwardly, keeping his emotions masked, but
inside he felt drained and weary. He thought back to that morning when he
received a package of sweets and candies from home. He had suppressed a snort
when the beautiful owl had landed in front of him. Everyone thought it was
sweets that his mother sent to him, as she had since first year. But the truth
was that his mother and father had ordered the house elves to send the care
packages to keep up the façade of a loving family.
He didn’t know why his mother persisted in doing so now. Even before Lucius was
thrown into Azkaban the wizarding world thought his family cold and uncaring
dark wizards, and now with Lucius in Azkaban on Death Eater charges this just
further cemented the worlds claim. So, why did his mother insist on keeping up
the charade? Fact of the matter was that Narcissa didn’t care about him and the
continuation of care packages was pointless. But that didn’t mean he didn’t eat
them; no point in wasting perfectly good sweets, after all.
He sighed as they walked into the Great Hall and to the Slytherin table. He sat
with Blaise next to him and Crabbe and Goyle to the right of Blaise. He piled a
little bit of food onto his plate and conversed with Blaise as he ate.
“So have you started your Defense essay yet Draco?” Blaise asked as he munched
on his food. He was talking about the project they had received that previous
Tuesday where their DADA professor, Aidan Devington, had assigned for them to
research and write about the patronus charm and its creator before they attempt
it due next Friday.
“Yes Blaise I have, I just have to write up the final copy sometime this
weekend. What about you?” Draco asked raising a brow at the other boy.
“Got the research done as you know but I haven’t written it yet. Just a bunch
of notes as far,” the dark haired boy answered with a casual shrug. Draco shook
his head with amusement. Blaise was ever the procrastinator sometimes. Lunch
passed with light conversation and soon everyone was leaving. Blaise and Draco
left on their way to ancient runes leaving Crabbe and Goyle to their own
devices.
They walked to the classroom and took their seats in the back on the left side
of the room like always, breezing by Hermione who was already there front row
center. Soon the rest of the class filed in and the professor began the lesson.
Draco only had half his mind on what the teacher was saying, taking notes
absently knowing anything he missed he could grab from Blaise later.
The class seemed to pass in a blur to him soon ending and the students packing
up. He was preoccupied but couldn’t pinpoint a reason for it. He felt restless
as he walked with Blaise to their next class, transfiguration. He could feel
the fabric of the shirt he was wearing under his robe rubbing against the cuts
on his arm, stinging and prickling as he moved, glancing subtly at his arm.
They made it to the classroom and walked in noticing Crabbe and Goyle there
sitting beside each other. Blaise and Draco walked over taking the seat in
front of them, nodding an indifferent greeting to the two.
As the class started he noticed that Potter wasn’t in class, though Weasley and
Granger were. They were looking a little worried, passing small glancing at the
door every now and then as McGonagall explained what they were doing. He
briefly wondered where Potter could be, having never known him to actually skip
class but brushed it aside as not his concern. What should he care if the
Golden Boy was skipping class?
“So you will be using these and animating them into moving. The incantation is
‘agito’ now all of you try it!” McGonagall said sternly and passed out teacups
to everyone.
“Wonder where Potter might be,” Blaise said as he watched Draco try the spell.
“I mean I’ve never known him to skip class before.”
Draco, who had finally gotten the spell right and had the teacup dancing atop
his desk, turned to Blaise with a raised eyebrow. “Blaise, I don’t know nor
care where Potter may be or that he’s skipping class. Probably won’t even get
in trouble for it. Bloody Golden Boy,” Draco spat and glared at the teacup.
“There’s a chance he will get in trouble. If I remember correctly McGonagall
doesn’t let anyone get away with things even her precious Gryffindors.” Blaise
muttered after he made his teacup dance and twirl across the desktop also.
McGonagall walked over then surveying the teacups.
“Well done gentlemen, five points each to Slytherin.” She said with a nod
walking to the front of the room. “Alright, for homework everyone is to try
animating different things. Depending on the object it could be harder to get
the spell to work. So you are to try animating different objects and writing
about whether you get it to move or not and why. Class dismissed!” She said.
Everyone packed up quickly and began to leave the classroom.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Dinner had passed quickly and the students had headed back to their dorms;
Draco to his Prefect room. The blonde had noticed that Potter hadn’t shown up
for dinner either as he had glanced covertly at the Gryffindor table throughout
the meal. From talk through the Hogwarts gossip no had seen Potter since after
lunch and no one knew where he was.
Thinking of Potter made him think back to the beginning of the school year. The
minute he saw the black haired boy when he made his yearly trip to their
compartment he felt something was different. He couldn’t put his finger on it
then and couldn’t now but he could tell something was different about the raven
haired teen that either wasn’t there before or he hadn’t noticed. And he leaned
more toward the latter.
Watching Potter since the beginning of term had shown outwardly that nothing
seemed to be different about the boy but Draco being a Malfoy and a Slytherin
knew all about masks and hiding. He wasn’t positive if the Boy Who Lived was
putting on an act for everyone or not but he was positive something was
different and he wondered what it was. Whatever it was though, no one, not even
his best friends seemed to notice it.
Sitting in a chair by his fireplace in the sitting room he turned over what
he’d been noticing of Potter so far this year. Something had change that was
for sure. He’d become more skilled in potions this year, able to actually brew
one showing he’d actually studied the subject along with the other subjects. He
put more effort into his school work and it was noticeable. Potter also seemed
much calmer this year, not easily rising to taunts that the Slytherins, himself
included, made at him. Not to mention the boy was dressing better than what he
used to wear.
Well, Potter wasn’t his problem and he could really care less what was going on
with him though, admittedly, he was curious to know. With a sigh he decided to
start on his homework, pushing thoughts of Potter to the back of his mind.
'Because really, Draco thought, 'this was Potter and Potter isn’t my concern.
And with that thought he began working on his DADA essay.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Harry awoke early the next morning, way before anyone else he knew. Rising from
the large king size bed he decided to head back to the dorm now and take a
shower there to keep from getting his secret room discovered. Changing back
into his clothes he wore coming down there he grabbed up the back he brought
and stepped out of the bedroom. Looking briefly at the runespoor painting he
was glad to find the snake asleep and pulled out the Marauders map, tapping it
with his wand and saying “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” Making
sure no one was around the entrance he tapped the map again muttered, “mischief
managed” and left the room heading back to Gryffindor Tower.
He made it to the portrait without any problems, much to his relief, said the
password and walked into the common room. No one was in the common room as he
knew they wouldn’t be and he made his way up to the dorm. Stepping into the
room he noticed the others were asleep still but knew that they would soon be
waking. Putting his things away he grabbed his clothes and things and walked
toward the bathroom. He would get a shower and head down to breakfast before
heading out for Hogsmeade. He wasn’t ready to deal with Ron and Hermione yet
the anger was still simmering in him.
By the time he finished his shower and came back out dressed in a form-fitting
dark red short sleeve turtleneck and black baggy jeans that fit snug to his
hips, the other boys were already rising from their sleep. Seamus, Dean and
Neville looked uneasy as Ron and Harry completely ignored each other, not
knowing what to say. Harry walked over to his bed and pulled on his black
combat boots. Grabbing his pouch of money and putting it into his pocket Harry
walked out the dorm. There was a few people walking around in the common room
but Harry ignored the looks he was tossed and walked out the portrait hole.
Making his way to the Great Hall slowly, Harry noticed the few students who
were normally up and ready for the day walking to breakfast also. He walked
into the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table that had a few third
and fourth years already eating. Fixing himself a plate of food, he glanced
around the Hall at the other tables. There was a few from each house already
down there.
As he tucked in to his breakfast other students began coming in until the hall
was filled with eating students chatting joyfully about the Hogsmeade trip.
Around the Hall other students and the professors began picking up on the
tension among the house of Gryffindor. The table wasn’t as boisterous as usual
and many noticed the uneasy glances the students of that house were throwing
the Golden Trio’s way especially. It had many wondering what was going on.
Hermione looked at Harry who she had sat across from with Ron, who was still
ignoring Harry and looked at the black haired boy. “Harry,” Hermione began in a
gentle, cautious voice.
But Harry cut her off with a quiet, “Don’t Hermione” and continued eating. He
didn’t want to hear right then what she had to say. He didn’t want her to try
and understand what was going on. He wanted her to go back to being oblivious
about him like everyone else.
Breakfast passed in a flurry of whispering and wondering between students and
professors alike. All were curious about the strain that seemed to be among the
Gryffindors, the Trio specifically.
Harry was glad when breakfast was over and they could leave for Hogsmeade. He
began his trek to the village alone knowing that somehow by the end of the day
all of Hogwarts would know of what happened in the common room last night.
'Because, Harry thought with no little amount of scorn, 'everything I do or say
must be known by everyone.' With a derisive snort to himself he pushed anything
about yesterday and the rumors sure to run wild to the back of his mind. It was
Hogsmeade weekend and he was going to enjoy himself at the very least.
When he finally reached Hogsmeade he decided to head to Honeydukes first. He
wanted to stock up on a variety of sweets. Walking into the sweetshop he walks
around looking into everything. He came across the Bertie Bott's Every Flavor
Beans display and picked up two boxes of them. He was debating on whether to
get some licorice wands or not as a display of a new candy caught his eyes.
Turning to look, he read what was written on the barrel the sweet was in.
Fruit Snaps, it said and according to the description they snapped after five
seconds on your tongue exploding your mouth with the particular fruit is taste
like. And they had all kinds; cherry, strawberry, grape, sour apple and many
more. Interested, Harry grabbed a bag of them and then a hand full of the
licorice wands. Picking up some fruit flavored lollipops he went and paid for
his candy. He had noticed some of the students who were in the shop giving him
strange looks and decided it was best if he left now. Obviously word got around
of the common room fiasco.
He browsed around the village lazily stopping in shops every now and then.
After checking out Zonko’s and Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop (he had needed a new
one) he headed over to The Three Broomsticks, wanting a Butterbeer or two.
Stepping into the pub he looked around casually as he walked over to a table.
He groaned inwardly when he saw Ron and Hermione sitting at a table together.
He wasn’t ready to deal with them yet. Some of the anger had faded away but he
still wasn’t ready to talk to them yet, knowing it would end in another
argument again because Hermione wouldn’t give up trying to figure out what's
wrong. But Fate wasn’t on his side and Hermione spotted him and got up,
approaching him.
“Harry come sit with Ron and I,” it sounded more like a demand and Harry sighed
knowing he wasn’t going to get out of this. Especially with the determined look
Hermione had. He nodded once and walked over to the table his two friends were
occupying. The silence was thick as Harry sat and the tension you could cut
with a knife.
Madam Rosmerta came over then and she looked slightly wary as she could almost
feel the anxiety at the table. “What can I get you?” she asked looking at Harry
as the other two already had drinks.
“A Butterbeer please,” Harry said quietly with a small smile. She nodded and
left off.
Hermione looked at Harry who kept his gaze focused of the table. She had been
shocked by his outburst last night when she had tried to help and she had been
hurt. She didn’t understand why her friend would keep something from her if she
could help, even a little bit. When she had asked Harry what was wrong last
night she had knew it would take a bit of coaxing to get him to talk but she
hadn’t expected him to blow up about it. As soon as Rosmerta brought his drink
and left Hermione took a deep breath and thought how best to approach this.
“Harry, I’m sorry about last night but I was just trying to help you.” She said
carefully looking at him as he took a sip of his drink, eyes averted from her.
“Harry if something is wrong why won’t you talk to us?” she was keeping her
voice low so as not to attract any attention.
“I told you yesterday Hermione, maybe I just don’t want to talk about it. Cant
you accept that and leave it?” Harry asked keeping his voice low also. You
could here the hint of anger in his tired voice.
“No Harry I can’t because you’re my friend and if something is bothering you I
want to help you. Ron wants to help you too, don’t you Ron?” Hermione said and
sent a pointed look at the red head.
“Yeah,” he mumbled not really looking at Harry. He was still upset with the way
he talked to Hermione yesterday.
“Well I’m fine, there’s nothing wrong, stop fucking coddling me Hermione. I
don’t want to talk about anything, not with you, not with Ron, not with
anyone!” he hissed trying hard not to shout. He was losing that calm he had
worked so hard to maintain and he was afraid of what would happen.
Hermione looked at her friend, not knowing why he was being like this. She
wasn’t coddling him, she was concerned! She opened her mouth to speak but was
cut off.
“Hermione don’t, if I don’t want to talk accept it. Stop pushing me because YOU
want to know what’s wrong. Sometimes you can’t know everything Hermione.” Harry
said and with that he finished his Butterbeer and got up to leave. He couldn’t
stay around here any longer with out another outburst like yesterday happening.
He knew Hermione meant well but he didn’t want her to continue her annoying,
persistent attempts to get him to talk. He left the pub and decided he was
going to head back to the castle. It was still early for most students to be
going back but he didn’t care he had to get away.
He made it back to the castle quickly and headed directly to the Tower. On the
way he ran into McGonagall who stopped him and he knew what it was about.
“Mr. Potter where were you for my class yesterday?” She asked sternly. Harry
sighed knowing this was coming.
“I had been off thinking and lost track of time Professor.” He said sheepishly
and gave her a small smile hoping to get off easy.
 
“Be that as it may Mr. Potter you are to report for detention with Filch on
Monday at 8:30. Make sure it doesn’t happen again. And the Headmaster wishes to
see you after Dinner,” McGonagall said briskly and walked off. Harry sighed and
made his way to the Tower. Detention with Filch was going to be horrid. No two
ways about that. And what did the Headmaster want? Hopefully it wasn’t anything
bad. Making it to his dorm room he lay on the bed and began reading one of the
muggle books he bought that summer, Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice,
picking up where he had left off.
***** Talk with Dumbledore and the Concepts of Black and White *****

Author's notes: Check chapter one
===============================================================================
Note: Takes place during the last chapter – Saturday; Hogsmeade!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 5: Talk with Dumbledore and the Concepts of Black and White
Harry walked into the Great Hall later for dinner and sat down in his seat. The
tension from breakfast had eased slightly but Harry noticed almost everyone
glancing at him more than usual. He ignored the stares knowing that everyone
must know about his outburst in the common room. He ate dinner quickly avoiding
any eye contact and not talking to anyone. Ron and Hermione didn’t say anything
to him either. He wasn’t in the mood for this and he felt himself flushing
under all the attention as he could feel the many stares boring into him. He
felt like he was being suffocated and he couldn’t breathe evenly.
Before dinner was even over he left the Great Hall, walking out calmly despite
his being uncomfortable. Once he had walked a few steps from the door he
stopped and took a deep breath, regaining his calm composure. He began walking
again, heading in the direction of the Headmasters office.
He wasn’t completely sure what Dumbledore wanted but he figured it could only
be a couple different things. He hadn’t been warm toward the old Headmaster
since returning and he wasn’t ready to be. He blamed the old man a little for
the events of last year. He could’ve tried harder to keep Sirius from coming to
the Department of Mysteries that night, Harry knew Dumbledore could’ve and he
was angry that he didn’t.
Reaching the gargoyle that guarded the entrance Harry realized he didn’t know
the password and swore under his breath with a few choice words. Resigning
himself to it he looked at the gargoyle and began naming off sweets.
“Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans…Chocoballs…Chocolate Frogs…Uh, Jelly Slugs,”
Harry said sounding more and more exasperated with each candy named. Why didn’t
McGonagall give him the password? Just as he was about to name another candy a
voice from behind him spoke up.
“Sugar Quills,” there was a hint of amusement in the voice and turning around
as he had already recognized the voice he came face to face with Albus
Dumbledore. “Hello Harry, my boy, lets go up to my office shall we?” the old
man asked and swept pass Harry.
Harry let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and followed the man
up the staircase and into his office in silence. Dumbledore stopped by Fawkes
and petted the red plumage of the phoenix before taking a seat behind his desk.
Harry sat in the chair across from him and looked at a point just behind
Dumbledore’s shoulder. He didn’t want to stare the man in the eye, if it was
one thing he learned from Snape it was not to stare someone directly in the
eyes and he knew Dumbledore was a skilled legilimens like Snape.
“How are you doing Harry?” Dumbledore asked after observing the boy. He noticed
something was off with Harry since he had come back that year, even if no one
else noticed. He couldn’t say what it was but he was positive something was
wrong about the boy. He figured in the beginning in had something to do with
the death of Sirius and the boy was mourning in his own way but he wasn’t so
sure anymore. And now the tension among the Gryffindor house, Harry and his two
friends specifically, was worrying him. He had noticed the tension hadn’t eased
much at dinner either.
“I’m doing fine sir,” Harry answered softly, tone somewhat cold, moving his
gaze to his hands which were on his knees. He had a feeling he knew what this
was about. He was sure Dumbledore felt the tension among the Gryffindors, also
noticing it centered mostly on him and his friends and was wondering about it.
“Would you like a lemon drop or some tea Harry?” Dumbledore asked gently,
looking at the boy in front of him. He had known about him leaving the
Dursley’s this summer and when he found he was safe he had given him the space
he suspected Harry needed after losing his godfather.
Harry shook his head no about the candy and tea and looked up at the
Headmaster, not quite in the eyes. “Professor, what is it you wanted?” He asked
shortly wanting to get to the point and leave.
Dumbledore looked at Harry over his half moon glasses. He had had a feeling the
boy still blamed him for the events of last year but he hadn’t been sure until
now. “Harry is there anything wrong you’d like to talk about?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think so, sir. Why don’t you ask what you really want to know and
let me leave,” Harry replied, keeping his tone polite if a bit cold.
Dumbledore sighed inwardly, he hadn’t expected, really, for Harry to be the
same way toward him as before but he had hoped he would be. “I noticed some
problems among your house; they seemed very tense this morning and at dinner.”
Dumbledore said softly, casually.
Harry knew this was what it was about and held himself from rolling his eyes
and snorting derisively. “It’s nothing really, just a little argument between
me, Ron and Hermione last night. Things got a little out of hand and were not
talking at the moment, that’s all.”
Dumbledore thought on that a moment as he looked at the black haired teen in
front of him. Disputes between friends were something uncontrollable and bound
to happen, even to the best of friends. But Dumbledore had a feeling there was
something more behind this fight, he was sure of it. “Are you sure that’s it?”
he said and looked over his half moon glasses, blue eyes intense.
Harry glanced momentarily at Dumbledore’s face, still not meeting his eyes and
meeting his nose instead. In a controlled voice he said, “Yes that’s it, just
an argument.”
“How about your scar any visions as of late?”
“No, sir, just small twinges at the moment that I believe means he’s either
happy or angry.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing else wrong?” Dumbledore asked and Harry shook his
head ‘no’.
Dumbledore sighed aloud this time and nodded his head. If Harry didn’t want to
talk to him about it there was nothing he could do. “Alright then Harry, my
boy, you can go then.” He said softly keeping his eyes on the teens face. Harry
nodded and without a word he got up and left the office.
Dumbledore knew there was something wrong with the boy, he could feel it, but
couldn’t identify what it was. Maybe it had nothing more to do with than the
death of Harry’s godfather, maybe it was nothing but mourning and he was doing
it the best way he could. Trying to put on a brave face and show everyone he
was fine and he wasn’t and his friends confronted him and he became defensive.
Yes, that was a possibility. But somehow Albus Dumbledore wasn’t sure that was
the whole of it.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
After leaving the headmasters office Harry decided to head back to the dorm to
get some things and then find a quiet place to be alone. Walking through the
portrait hole he didn’t bother to look around the common room and headed
straight for his dorm, hoping no one was around. Luckily no one was in the
dorm. Deciding to change his shirt while he was there he pulled off his
turtleneck and looking through his wardrobe he pulled on a light long sleeve
red shirt. After that he walked over to his bed and bent down to his trunk.
Pulling out his rucksack, the one he didn’t use for school, he shoved his
invisibility cloak into the bag, looking behind him he quickly pulled out his
butterfly knife and put it into the bag also. Tossing around thoughts in his
head he decided to put the Marauders Map in the bag also. With a last thought
he shoved his book into the bag and closed it. He stood up and looked around
the room and closing the trunk, he walked out and back down into the common
room.
Just as he was about to walk out the portrait hole he heard a voice from
behind. “Harry, where are you going? Curfew is soon,” the voice he recognized
as Hermione said.
Not turning around but tilting his head, he said over his shoulder, “I’m going
to find a place to be by myself for awhile. Screw curfew” and he walked out not
waiting for another word to be said. He walked away from the portrait until he
was out of sight and opened his rucksack and pulled out his invisibility cloak.
As a second thought he pulled out the Marauders Map and tapped in with his wand
saying the phrase to activate it.
Looking at the map he noticed that there was no one in the way of his
destination and tapped the map again, clearing it. He began his trek for the
astronomy tower glad for a couple hours by himself. He knew he could have gone
to his secret room but he didn’t want to at the moment, so the astronomy tower
would be his second place to go.
He got there without any problems and walked up the stairs until he came to the
room he wanted, taking off his invisibility cloak as he went. The room wasn’t
anything special, mostly bare for the exception of a small table and chair in
the far corner. Harry walked up to the front of the room and sat on the floor,
staring up into the night sky. It was black now with scattered stars glinting
like diamonds and an almost full moon glowing milky white.
He sighed as he looked into the sky. He hadn’t meant to go off on Ron and
Hermione like that and he knew they really didn’t deserve it, only wanting to
help him. But he was angry; at them, at himself, at everything! If he hadn’t
let his guard slip he wouldn’t have had to deal with his friends worry and
questions. If he hadn’t taken his frustration out on them they wouldn’t be not
talking to him now. If Sirius hadn’t come to the Ministry that night he’d still
be alive. If he, Harry, hadn’t been rash and stupid there would have been no
reason to go to the Ministry in the first place. But ‘ifs’ weren’t going to
bring Sirius back and ‘ifs’ weren’t going to get his friends off his back and
‘ifs’ weren’t going to change the fact he had the weight of the world on his
shoulders.
He snorted aloud derisively and glared into the night. So yes, he was bitter
and angry that a world that should have been his salvation was now a place he
was starting to wish he never knew about. Coming here, to the wizarding world,
had been great in the beginning. This was a whole new and interesting world
full of magic and things that were only fantasy to him until eleven years old.
When he had found out about this world he had thought that maybe things would
begin to improve in his miserable life.
Nothing has been improving in his life lately, really nothing improved since he
found out about the wizarding world. He may have found friends, an escape from
the Dursley’s and Dudley and his gang, but too many bad things had come to
light since he found out he was a wizard. Having found out he had a homicidal
wizard, presumed dead, after him, that he has tried, even if unsuccessfully to
kill him every year and will continue to do so. That nothing in his life was
private because it would always seem to find a way into the Prophet, that
whenever anything good happened, something bad happened not long after it.
Discovering the magical world and almost being killed his first year, being
able to show up for his second year and almost being killed again along with
getting Hermione petrified and Ron almost killed, finding his godfather and
losing him almost two years later and not having the chance to get to know him
properly, winning the Tri-wizard tournament and almost dying when Voldemort was
resurrected along with Cedric dying. He just couldn’t seem to win and be happy
either way, no matter what. And to top it all off he had to find out his father
was nothing more than an arrogant bully, like his cousin or Malfoy and his
gang.
And now he found out he had a prophecy that basically meant ‘Kill or be Killed’
that he had to fulfill. At the age of 16 he had to worry about killing a madman
who was after him or being killed when he should be enjoying being a teenager.
Worrying about school, Quidditch, dating and normal teenage things and not if
he was going to be alive by the end of the school year.
He sighed again and was about to reach into his rucksack for his butterfly
knife when he heard a noise behind him, the sound of the door opening echoing
in the room. Turning around and removing his hand from his bag he saw the last
person he really wanted to be there. Draco Malfoy. Malfoy walked into the room
and started slightly when he saw someone there and Potter of all people.
“Oh great,” Draco said with a groan. “You just had to be here didn’t you? What
are you doing here Potter?” Draco sneered half-heartedly. He had come up here
to be alone, damn it, and it figured that someone, no, not just someone but
POTTER of all people had to be there to intrude on his alone time.
Harry scowled at the blonde. “I was up here first Malfoy, you don’t like it
then leave! In fact just bugger off,” he snapped before turning back around to
gaze into the sky.
Draco glared at the back of Potter’s head and then silently sighed. He didn’t
want to go any where else, this place always seemed to help him think things
out and made him feel at least a little bit better but he wasn’t sure he wanted
to stick around with Potter either. Though when he thought about what he would
have to return to (Crabbe and Goyle’s company – who were nothing but blathering
idiots. Pansy – who would probably try to flirt and snog with him again and
Blaise who would complain about wanting to do something instead of being bored
on a Saturday night) or back to his room, he decided sharing company with
Potter was better than any of the other options and sat down opposite the black
haired teen with his back to the wall.
Harry noticed this out of the corner of his eye but chose to ignore the
Slytherin who was rudely intruding on his privacy. He wasn’t leaving because
Malfoy was a prat, he would just ignore him. Of course this was Malfoy and you
couldn’t ignore him because the blonde made sure you knew he was there.
“Heard you had a row with Weasley and Granger,” Malfoy said in a disinterested
tone of voice, like he could care less if it was true. He had heard from Pansy,
who was part of the gossip line of Hogwarts that Potter had blown up at Granger
and Weasley in their common room and that Potter had stormed out afterwards and
didn’t come back that night.
Harry stiffened at the comment before sighing. Not looking at Malfoy he
answered, “As it’s probably around the whole school by now I don’t know why
you’re asking.” His tone was indifferent, Draco realized and the statement
confirmed that the rumor was true. The Golden Boy had had an argument with his
two sidekicks.
“What ever would the Gryffindor Golden Boy have to argue with his two friends
over?” Draco drawled the sarcasm evident in his voice.
“None of your damn business Malfoy!” Harry snapped glaring at the blonde.
“Look, it’s obvious you’re not leaving and I’m not leaving so let’s just ignore
each other, okay?” Harry asked with a tired sigh. If he couldn’t be alone he at
least wanted silence. Draco didn’t speak but turned his attention to the night
sky, determined to at least relieve some of what was on his mind.
He felt restless and tired at the same time. He had run out of dreamless sleep
potion and had to do without the last two nights, leaving himself open to
nightmares. He couldn’t ask Severus again to give him more because he knew his
godfather would ask about him and considering he wasn’t supposed to take the
last batch of seven vials every single night that was definitely out of the
question. Severus knew about the abuse but he didn’t know about the self-harm
and Draco wanted to keep it that way.
So without the potions he had dreamt of things he’d been trying to avoid.
Fragmented scenes of him being beaten by his father…the shout of a crucio…the
glare of steely gray eyes filled with disgust and disapproval and anger…the
strike of a pale hand to his jaw. He closed his eyes, shook his head and sighed
softly, almost inaudibly, trying to banish his thoughts. Thinking about his
father always made him feel dually hot and cold. Hot from anger, a disgusted
rage at a man he once looked up to and cold from the fear he felt. He feared
Lucius Malfoy and what the man was capable of and he hated himself for the fact
that he feared the man to begin with.
‘I’ll have to sneak into Sev’s classroom and get the ingredients myself and
make the potion,’ Draco thought as he looked into the black velvet sky of the
night. But the nightmares weren’t the only problems that were bothering him.
Just this morning Blaise had asked him if he was feeling well, saying he looked
a little paler than usual and really tired with a slight discoloration under
his eyes. He had been so tired that morning after his nightmare that he had
forgot to do anything to hide the circles under his eyes from two days of lack
of sleep. And the blood loss, along with the decrease in his eating had him
looking paler.
Blaise had inquired on it and Draco had brushed him off with a dismissive
excuse of no sleep, which had been half true and made sure he looked more
presentable. ‘No need to draw suspicion to myself.’ He had thought with a snort
that morning. The rest of the day had gone by fine with few problems. Blaise
hadn’t asked about him again which was good but Pansy had tried to get him to
spend most of the day with her and had been annoying with her incessant
flirting. The girl just didn’t seem to realize that he couldn’t stand her. He
sighed again, thinking how he was happy to have escaped the paws of Pansy once
more.
“You want one?” An indifferent voice broke Draco from his thoughts and he
looked up startled and surprised. He had forgotten that he wasn’t alone and
that Potter was there. Slipping back into his Malfoy mask he raised one eyebrow
at the black haired teen.
“One want?” Draco asked in a bored and nonchalant tone. Harry held up a clear
bag of brightly colored marble sized candies for the blonde to see, not sure
why he had even offered. He had picked the bag up and popped one of the
candies, strawberry, into his mouth when he had looked to the Slytherin and
just – offered.
Draco looked at the bag in Potter’s hand before looking to him suspiciously.
Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed another candy from the bag and popped it into
his mouth. “See, there not poisoned or anything, Malfoy, I just got them
today.” Harry said and held out the bag toward the Slytherin again.
Draco contemplated whether he should take one or not but in the end decided to.
Reaching into the bag he pulled out a blue candy, and with one more suspicious
look in Potter’s direction popped the confection into his mouth. Hardly any
time after placing it on his tongue the treat snapped in his mouth, filling it
with the taste of blueberry. He looked at Potter both brows raised in question
and surprise.
“New candy at Honeydukes,” Harry answered. They lapsed back into silence once
more, Draco grabbing a handful of the small candies with a smirk in Harry’s
direction. Harry just shook his hand as he grabbed a few out the bag before
putting the rest back into his rucksack, ignoring the butterfly knife his hand
briefly brushed against.
“Have you ever noticed how black and white people make things?” Harry asked
softly, breaking the silence. He wasn’t sure why he asked such a questions or
why he asked his rival of all people. He was looking up into the black velvet
sky, his green eyes gazing absently at the moon.
Draco looked at the Boy Who Lived shocked and completely thrown at the
question. Potter didn’t look at him when he asked but the blonde figured the
question was, more or less, vaguely directed at him. He was silent for a while
not sure how to respond to a question like that from someone like Harry Potter,
Golden Boy, Boy Who Lived. But Potter began speaking again and he didn’t have
to answer.
“So many people believe everything is black and white, light and dark, good and
evil. There’s no middle ground to most; no grey area that’s a mix of both
sides. Why is that?” Harry’s voice was still soft as he kept his gaze still
fixed on the night sky. He wasn’t sure why he was saying any of this but his
mind was slightly preoccupied and he was saying what came to the forefront of
his mind.
Draco, who was still looking curiously at Potter’s profile, exhaled slowly and
decided maybe answering wasn’t so bad. “Because many want to believe life is
that simplistic. You think of things as light and dark or good and evil and
you’ll only have to worry about two sides; what you consider right and wrong.
For people, at least some, to think of life as grey or with a middle ground
between two opposing perspectives would be making life more complicated. That
middle ground is thought of as an unknown factor.” The Slytherin’s voice was
low, a little thoughtful and somewhat matter of fact in its tone.
Harry looked at the blonde surprised, eyebrows arched and eyes wide. He wasn’t
sure what to be more shocked at. The fact that Malfoy had answered or what the
answer had been from the usually sneering Slytherin. Draco caught the look
Harry gave him and smirked.
“What, did you expect me to say something like the darker side of life is
better and people fear it?” there was a mocking tone to his voice as he said
it. Harry nodded slightly because, yes, he had expected something along those
lines. “Well sorry to shatter your fragile Gryffindor views of me.” Draco
drawled sarcastically.
Shaking his head Harry looked back to the dark sky. “Sometimes simplistic is
more dangerous than complicated.” The black haired teen muttered but knew the
blonde had heard it.
“Yes, sometimes it is but the complicated is the unknown and the unknown is
feared and that’s something many people like to avoid,” Draco stated glancing
briefly at the other boy. Harry nodded his head in agreement and understanding
to that statement and they lapsed back into silence, both more aware of the
other than before.
Harry was shocked by Malfoy’s answers to what they were talking about and that
they were talking somewhat civilly. Looking into the night sky when he first
came up here he knew he was going into a mood of reflection that night, of
introspection but didn’t expect to have someone to share his thought with. The
fact that is was his rival that he was talking to was even stranger.
Draco was thinking along the same lines, just as shocked that he was sitting
here with Potter, conversing civilly on such a subject and even more shocked on
the Golden Boy’s view on things. This night was turning out to be much
different than he thought it would be, but not as unpleasant as he thought when
he first saw Potter.
Harry sighed as he picked up his bag and stood up stretching lazily. Draco
looked at Harry and stood also, aware of how late it was getting.
“Well Malfoy it been, ah, interesting…waxing philosophical with you and all but
it’s getting late.” Harry stated with a shrug, swinging his rucksack over his
shoulder.
“Yes, interesting is definitely one way to put it. Anyway I’ll be seeing you
around Potter,” the blonde drawled with a tilt of the head.
“Yeah Malfoy,” Harry responded with the same tilt of the head at the other
teen, who turned and started walking towards the door. Harry turned back to
gaze into the night sky as he heard the Slytherin leave, deciding to wait back
a bit. And as one boy gazed into the night sky and another walked the dark
halls of the castle back to his dorm they both thought that an understanding,
no matter how small, had been reached between them. Not everything was black
and white and sometimes the simple ways of things weren’t the easiest or safest
no matter how much you wanted to believe it to be.
Harry shook his head slowly, mildly bemused by the turn of events for the night
and grabbed his invisibility cloak out of his bag. Swinging the cloak around
his shoulders he made his way back to Gryffindor Tower thinking vaguely of the
concepts of black and white, light and dark and the enigma that is Draco
Malfoy.
***** Holidays Beginnings: Watching and Worries *****

Author's notes: Check chapter one
===============================================================================
Chapter 6: Holidays Beginnings: Watching and Worries
November passed into December and the weather turned colder as in the first
week of December snow began to fall lightly. It was now two days before the
students left for holiday to spend time with family and friends. The castle was
all decorated up for the festive season, the stones themselves seeming to hum
with excitement. Harry, who usually found this month to be wonderful and was
full of excitement and cheer himself, was feeling oddly detached from it all.
Oh, that wasn’t to say he didn’t put on the mask of being a happy like everyone
else was because he did, he just didn’t feel it. Everyone seemed to be in the
festive mood; even the Slytherins seemed to have more of an upbeat attitude,
though more subdued than the other houses.
Harry was currently sitting on his bed in the dorm with the curtains shut and
silencing and locking charms up. He was reclining against the headboard lazily,
thinking of all that had happened in past few weeks. After that night in the
Astronomy Tower with Malfoy he had sat and talked with Ron and Hermione the
next day to smooth things out between them.
Flashback
After making their way to an unused classroom and Harry putting up silence and
locking charms the trio stood in awkward silence for a moment. Then Harry,
determined to say what he wanted to say, spoke up.
“Listen, I’m sorry about blowing up at you. Hermione you have to understand
though, that sometimes you can’t know everything and that if I don’t want to
talk about what's wrong then you should just accept that. And Ron I’m sorry for
being such a git to you,” Harry said with a gusty sigh.
Hermione looked slightly put out at his words and Harry quickly interjected. “I
know your only concerned and trying to help but Hermione some things I just
need to do myself, some problems I need to just work through by myself.”
Hermione still looked a little upset but nodded her head.
“Alright Harry, but just know that were here for you and we’ll help when if you
need it. Or if you just want to talk.” Hermione said with a small smile.
“Yeah mate, were here for you if you need us. And you were right, you were a
right git to us the other day,” Ron said with a small frown. “But I forgive
Harry.” The red head then smiled and clapped Harry on the back. Hermione gave
him a hug and they left the classroom, all tension between them gone.
End Flashback
After that talk things basically went back to normal for the three friends,
though Harry had noticed Hermione keeping a close eye on him. He had made sure
to keep the mask firmly in place and she had only just stopped throwing him
suspicious glances two weeks ago. It was annoying how she kept watch on him
like he was a child hiding something but he made sure to throw off any
suspicion she may have had. Ron had pretty much gone back to the way he was
before the argument and Harry didn’t have to worry about Ron nagging him as
much.
Well at least not about that anyway. Hermione was going home for the holiday to
be with her parents before heading to The Burrow on the 30th to spend the
holidays with the Weasley’s. Ron, of course was going home also. Ron and
Hermione had asked Harry to come with them for the holidays so they could all
be at The Burrow together but he had refused. When they had asked why he didn’t
want to come, he had told them he preferred to stay at Hogwarts this year and
left it at that. His friends weren’t happy about that and offered to stay also
but he told them to go ahead with their plans for the break. Mrs. Weasley had
even tried to get him to come when she had sent him letters but he had politely
refused that also. He just wanted to be alone for the holidays and knew he
basically would be with almost every Gryffindor going home with the exception
of two or three lower years staying behind.
Along with the few from his house staying he had noticed the same amount from
every other house and that surprisingly Malfoy was also staying here this year.
He hadn’t talked to Malfoy since that night in the astronomy tower. A few nods
here and maybe a lackluster insult thrown in but they really hadn’t said much
to each other. Harry had thought about the things said in the astronomy tower
that night and had wondered just how many other people, not only Slytherin
though he was curious about them, thought the same.
He hadn’t told either of his friends about the encounter that night, keeping
the conversation to himself as he was sure his friends wouldn’t understand. He
knew Ron saw things as black and white, good and evil; nothing beyond that
concept. Hermione he wasn’t completely sure about but from what he had observed
from her he was thinking she may see things the same way. He just knew they
wouldn’t understand his new outlook on life. But he had to grow up sooner than
others because he had a homicidal maniac after him wanting him dead.
He sighed heavily not wanting to think of this before going to bed. He sat up
and took the time to clear his mind, remembering to practice his occlumency. He
thought of the forest he used to guard his mind, visualizing it in his mind’s
eye, protecting his thoughts, feelings and memories from intrusion. He breathed
in deeply through his nose and let the air out of his mouth, relaxing himself.
When he was sure his mind was protected, he lay down and drifted off to sleep.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
It was two days later and everyone who was going home was packed and ready to
go. Draco sat in the common room watching everyone rush around to finish
gathering their things in last minutes checks. He wasn’t going home for the
holidays this year and wasn’t sure whether he was happy about that or not. He
had received a letter from his mother two weeks before break stating that she
was going to visit relatives and friends in France and that he should stay at
school this year. The letter had been rather short and dull, but he had gotten
the point; his mother didn’t want him around for the holidays this year. He
wasn’t to upset about it as he would be able to spend time by himself with so
few people staying behind.
He had noticed Potter’s name on the list of those staying and had briefly
wondered why he would be when he had the Weasley clan but it had drifted away
when he thought about the night in the astronomy tower. It had been an honest
surprise to hear the Golden Boy’s thoughts on the whole subject. He had been so
sure that the Gryffindor would be as close-minded as the rest of his house. He
had thought about what was said that night and had wondered if any of his
goody-goody friends, or even Dumbledore, knew he thought such things. And then
he thought they probably didn’t and it would be nice to see their faces if they
knew Potter thought that way.
But now he sat in a leather armchair in the Slytherin common room waiting for
the other Slytherins. He was walking with Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise to the
Entrance Hall to say goodbye and whatnot before he secured himself in his room
until dinner. At least that was his plan.
“Draco, Vince and Greg are coming now so we should being able to leave in a
minute.” The voice of Blaise Zabini came from somewhere behind the blonde.
Draco turned his head slightly to look at the dark haired Slytherin out of the
corner of his eye and nodded.
“Right, what's taking them so long anyway?” Draco asked.
“Their finishing packing since they left it for the last minute,” Blaise
smirked as he sat in a chair across from the other boy. Draco rolled his eyes,
partly annoyed and partly amused, since he had told the two to pack yesterday.
Just then the two mentioned came into the common room.
“Finally,” Draco drawled as he stood gracefully from the chair. The four made
their way out of the common room and started on their way to the Entrance Hall,
talking lightly and quietly to each other. When they made it to their
destination they saw many other students gathered, ready to leave. The quartet
stood off to the side as they talked and waited for the rest of the students so
three of them could leave.
“I still don’t understand why your mother wouldn’t take you to France with her.
She would any other time,” Blaise said with a raised brow. He had been
surprised when Draco had announced he would be staying at Hogwarts for the
holidays.
Draco shook his head, holding back a sigh. Since no one knew about his real
home life but Severus, and they only saw what was presented to make them look
like a loving family no one would understand that his mother didn’t care to
have him around much. “Blaise I told you I don’t like our relatives in France
and my mother knew that and was happy to let me stay here, as I had asked
early.” Draco said lying easily. Blaise looked at him a moment before sighing
and shaking his head.
“I don’t know why you don’t like them. And this is France! It’s got hot looking
people there and you could sneak away and have a little fun.” Blaise stated
waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Draco just snorted as the students began
moving to get in the carriages. He waved goodbye to his three friends lazily as
they got into a carriage. With a sigh he glanced around the Entrance Hall
seeing those staying behind who were waving their farewells to those leaving
and turned on his heel walking back to the dungeon and his rooms.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Dumbledore sat in his office after seeing the students off gazing into the
flames. He was joyful for the holidays to be there as he always liked those
festive times of the year. But he was also feeling worried. Harry hadn’t gone
to the Weasley’s for Christmas like he had expected instead opting to stay
here. After there talk that night he had made sure to keep an eye on Harry but
he hadn’t found anything that would determine what was going on with the boy.
A knock on his door shook him from his thoughts and he looked up with a small
sigh. “Come in!” The second it was out of his mouth the door opened and in
walked Severus Snape, Potions Masters. He walked in and sat in a chair in front
of the older wizard’s desk.
“You wanted to see me Albus?” Snape said in that smooth drawl of his, declining
the offer of tea. Albus was silent for a moment as he looked at the man in
front of him. He remembered Severus in school from his first year, the boy who
tried so hard to succeed. Severus hadn’t always been as confident as he was now
in himself. He had been teased and taunted terribly by James Potter and Sirius
Black during his school days. Then he had gone and become a Death Eater, a
young man who was powerful and intelligent in his own right had joined the
ranks of Voldemort. But he had come back to the Light side in the end, offering
himself as a spy for their side.
Albus sighed and looked at the man in the eye. “Severus, have you noticed any
odd behavior from Mr. Potter?”
Snape raised an eyebrow at the question and his lip curled some in disdain.
“When isn’t Potter behaving oddly? But as to your question Albus I would have
to say besides his improvement,” he fairly spat the word. “In potions I haven’t
seen anything odd from the brat.”
“I had talked to him sometime ago and he was,” Albus paused trying to find the
right word. “Angry still, which I can’t blame him but there seemed to be
something under the surface. I’m sure you were aware of the tension among
Gryffindor a few weeks ago?” Snape nodded at this, he had noticed it and had
vaguely wondered what that was about. Albus continued. “I had asked about it
and he had said it was a simple argument but I don’t think it was so simple.
I’ve watched him since that meeting but haven’t found anything to indicate
something was amiss. Since he is staying here for break, I’d like you to watch
him and see if you can find anything wrong,” Albus finished.
“What? You want me to watch Potter because he’s acting ODD? The brat is just
like his father, he’s probably up to something that would get him in trouble.
As usual,” Snape sneered angrily.
“Severus, you don’t know if he’s like James or not, you just assume he is.”
Albus said gently.
“Of course he’s like his father! Sneaking out at all hours of the night,
breaking rules. He’s done something each year to warrant him of being expelled
and you have let it slide, letting him get away with anything. You and everyone
else coddle him, I’m sure he’s used to that by his muggle relatives. The boy is
a disrespectful brat,” Snape said scowling angrily. “But if you’re so concerned
about him I’ll watch after him. But I’m telling you Albus, he’s only up to no
good!”
“Thank you Severus, my boy, thank you! Well it is time for dinner, shall we go
eat?” Albus asked cheerfully and rose to sweep out of the room, Snape following
him grumbling about impudent Gryffindors. ‘Why me,’ thought Snape, scowling the
whole way.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The Great Hall had been decorated for the festive season like every other year,
with the huge tree dressed in a multitude of decorations, the hanging garlands
and such. The hall was a beautiful sight that normally would have left Harry in
awe, even after seeing it for so many years but he didn’t feel anything. The
season wasn’t making him feel in high spirits like it normally did, just the
opposite really. He was feeling more depressed and detached.
He walked into the Great Hall and sat at the table near the end, noticing
vaguely the two third year Gryffindors who stayed were already there. The house
tables had been vanished and there was one long table for the few people;
students and teachers, who were staying for the holidays. He looked up when he
heard scraping sounds and saw two second or third year female Hufflepuffs he
didn’t know, Stephen Cornfoot, a Ravenclaw who played chaser and another
Ravenclaw, male, who he didn’t know sitting down. He noticed a second or third
year Slytherin boy sitting a little ways down from them. Pasting on his best
cheerful and happy smile he began a discussion of Quidditch with the two
Ravenclaws.
Draco walked into the Great Hall with a small sigh. He really didn’t want to be
here, he’d rather be in his room brooding. But he was hungry and as far as he
knew the house elves didn’t deliver food to a student’s room. Walking up to the
table that has replaced the four house tables he sat in a seat one down and
diagonal from Potter, next to Malcolm Baddock, the only other Slytherin to have
stayed. Slowly the professors who were there for the holidays who weren’t
already in the Hall came bustling in. Draco noticed Dumbledore and his
godfather, who was scowling, taking their seats. He nodded to the man who
nodded back. Then Dumbledore clapped his hands and the food for the evening
appeared on the table.
Snape piled food onto his plate and began to eat as he inconspicuously glanced
at Potter out of the corner of his eye as he talked over things he needed grown
for his potions ingredients stock with Professor Sprout and things he needed
shipped in with Dumbledore.
At first glance he noticed nothing unusual with the annoying brat who sat their
talking and laughing and smiling with the other students around him, glorying
in the attention they bestowed upon him. He was just beginning to think
Dumbledore was imagining things when something caught his attention. Looking at
Potter’s eyes you could see the happiness he was displaying wasn’t shining in
his eyes like he had seen before. His eyes were guarded and you couldn’t really
tell what he was feeling but he definitely wasn’t feeling happy.
Slightly interested in this he watched the Gryffindor a little more. And he
noticed something he never saw before, or it wasn’t there, or he chose not to
see it but now he saw it. The Boy Who Lived was wearing a mask and a damn good
one at that. If it wasn’t for his years as a spy and knowing how to read people
he wouldn’t have caught it.
Taking a drink from his goblet he gazed discreetly at Potter. Something was off
about him, something was odd and Dumbledore once again, damn him, seemed to be
right. He continued to watch him throughout dinner and decided to watch him
some more during the break. Something was wrong with the brat, something he
couldn’t figure out but he would watch and find out.
After all, Snape thought derisively it can’t be that bad for the Boy Who Lived.
Harry was only too happy to leave the Great Hall when dinner was done. He
wanted away from the happy chatter and some solitude. It was two days before
Christmas and he wasn’t sure he could make it through the next two days
surrounded by these bright and joyful people. He felt suffocated among them, he
wasn’t really happy or anything and their incessant cheer were making him feel
nauseas.
Leaving the Great Hall he was happy to be heading back to Gryffindor tower,
away from the cheer of the other occupants of the castle, away from the air
that seemed to him with excitement and strangle him with it. He was going to
hole himself up in his dorm and stay there as along as he could the next two
days. Maybe he could catch meals in the kitchen instead of with everyone else?
That is a definite possibility, he thought as he walked through the portrait
hole. He ran on up to his dorm room and grabbed the book he was reading,
flopping back on his bed, getting comfortable and began reading.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
After dinner Severus had asked him to come to his rooms. He had agreed because
he hadn’t talked to his godfather in awhile but he was slightly apprehensive
also. His godfather could want to talk about just about anything and he was
sure it had something to with his state of being.
Standing in front of the door now he sighed and collected himself. He had to be
ready for anything from this man. Knocking lightly he heard the silky voice of
his godfather, “Come in.”
He opened the door and stepped into room, closing the door behind him.
Severus’s sitting room consisted mainly of black, blue, silver and green
colors. The floor was covered in a dark blue plush rug with silver trim. There
was a moderately sized fireplace to the left of the room where a black leather
couch and two black and green chesterfield chairs were set. Between the couch
and the chairs was a coffee table of a dark wood. In the corner opposite the
fireplace was a cabinet that Draco knew held alcohol of all sorts.
His godfather was sitting in one of the chesterfields staring into the fire.
Draco walked over and sat in the other chair by the fireplace. He looked at his
godfather who sat staring into the flames with a thoughtful expression and
wondered what the man was thinking.
“How are you Draco? I know we haven’t talked privately much lately,” Severus
finally asked in a low voice that was soft and almost gentle. He kept his gaze
of the fire as he spoke.
Draco took a moment to answer knowing he must answer carefully. “I’m fine,
nothing worst than usual.” He drawled, telling mostly the truth. His godfather
didn’t know about him cutting himself and he hadn’t been doing it more lately
so really it wasn’t worst than usual, he reasoned with himself. Severus finally
turned to look at him, a piercing black gaze that unnerved him just the
slightest bit, but he didn’t show it.
“At least you’re not brooding like you were at the beginning of the year,”
Severus commented with a raised brow. He looked at Draco intensely for a long
moment silently. “Have you been taking the Dreamless Sleep potion every night
again?” his voice was casual and low but dangerous, holding a dark undertone to
it.
Draco tense imperceptibly at that tone. He knew Severus would never harm him
but he knew his godfather could be quite scary when he was upset. And he would
surely be upset if he knew that Draco was, indeed, taking the potion every
single night.
“Don’t even bother to lie to me Draco,” Severus continued when the blonde
didn’t speak. “I’m a potions master, yes, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t know
the effects to taking too much of a certain potion. So have you?”
Draco nodded not trusting himself to speak and knowing Severus would know if he
lied. But it was something he couldn’t help, taking the potion every night that
is. He wanted to escape the nightmares that plagued him and he had little care
to the consequences of what would happen to him from taking to much Dreamless
Sleep. Of course, he forgot to factor in his godfather knowing what he was
doing.
“Damn it Draco! As skilled as you are in potions how could you let this
happen?” Severus scowled, glaring fiercely at the blonde. “What stupidity
overtook you to do such a thing in the first place?”
Draco looked at the man in front of him and jutted his chin out stubbornly,
eyes narrowed and holding something not quite anger but not sadness either.
“You have nightmares you want to escape Severus and so do I! Besides I didn’t
take the potion EVERY single night. There were at least one or two days when I
didn’t take it.” Draco answered glaring at the black haired man.
“That’s still too much and too often to take that potion,” Severus said with a
sigh, not believing his godson’s idiocy and stubbornness. He understood the
need to escape nightmares that torment your sleep as he himself wanted to do
countless times but he never risked taking the potion Draco was on a constant
basis.
“How many vials do you have left?” Severus asked in a neutral tone with an
underlining tremor of suppressed anger and Draco barely held himself from
flinching. Severus only used that when he was extremely upset and restraining
himself from saying something scathing and only occasionally did he use that
tone and then only with a few select people.
“Six vials,” Draco muttered not looking into those black eyes. He respected
this man who took the time to teach him privately and help him with his
problems when he didn’t have too and disappointing him stung more than he
thought it would.
“You are to take one every three days from now on, you are NOT to take any
tonight and I will give you a potion to extract the overdose of Dreamless
Sleep. Do I make myself clear?” Severus demanded, voice low once again and
holding that dangerous undertone. His black eyes were gazing unblinkingly at
the blonde.
“Yes sir,” Draco muttered again. Severus stood from his seat and went through a
door and disappeared from the room only to return a few minutes later holding a
vial with a yellow colored liquid. He handed it to Draco silently and watched
the blonde drink it down making a face at the taste before handing the empty
vial back. Severus sat the vial on the coffee table and sat back in his seat.
“Make sure you do as I said Draco. You can leave,” Severus said turning his
gaze back to the fire with a very clear and cool dismiss to the blonde. Draco
rose and walked toward the door, not looking back as he left the room and
headed to his own rooms.
***** Christmas Breakdown and Secrets revealed *****

Author's notes: Check chapter one
===============================================================================
Chapter 7: Christmas Breakdown and Secret’s revealed.
Harry awoke Christmas morning feeling a little happier than he had in awhile.
He lay back in his four poster bed in his dorm and thought about past
Christmases. First year he had stayed here with Ron. His first Christmas with
people who actually liked him and it had been wonderful. The decorations, the
feast, and the warmth he never felt at the Dursley’s all made his first
Christmas at Hogwarts just that much more special. Second year had been
wonderful also though he and Ron and Hermione had taken time out of their break
to spy on Malfoy to see if he was the Heir of Slytherin, it had still been a
great holiday.
Third year had been pretty much the same. Fourth year, he remembered with
something akin to resentment wasn’t that much fun. With the Yule Ball and the
Tournament that year the holidays hadn’t been so enjoyable. When he started to
think about the holidays and how he spent them fifth year he felt his chest
tighten and a weight set on it and shook his head violently as he sat up. He
didn’t want to think about that, not today, no not today.
Taking a deep breath he got out of bed and looked at the stack of presents in
front of his four poster bed. He quickly put in his contacts before deciding to
start on opening them. He grabbed his blanket off his bed and spread it on the
floor in front of his presents and sat down on it. He separated all the
presents according to who they were from and then started in on them.
From Ron he received an assortment of candy form Hondeydukes and a single
dragon tooth on a leather strip of thong like a necklace. The note accompanying
the second gift stated the tooth was from a Hungarian Horntail with help from
Charlie. Thinking of the Hungarian Horntail made him think of the first task of
the tournament and his near brush with death at the hands of the dragon and how
much fun he had had. He smiled as he slipped the necklace on, the tooth hanging
only an inch under his collarbones.
The next gift was from Hermione. She got him a book on defensive spells that he
flipped through quickly, noting some really useful hexes. She also got him a
leather bound journal with muggle pencils and pens and a muggle sharpener.
There was a note with this particular gift.
I know sometimes there are things you just can’t tell other people, so here’s a
journal to write your thoughts and feelings down in. use it Harry, it might
help!
Hermione
He thought the gift was a little stupid himself but Hermione was smart and he
would at least try to use it out of courtesy.
From Molly and Arthur he received the usual Weasley jumper, green with a gold H
on it, a tin of fudge and a few other homemade goodies. Turning to another gift
he noticed a medium sized box with the Fred’s and Georges’s names on it.
Slightly apprehensive to what could be inside, he cautiously opened the letter
on top. It stated that there were some pranks in there that he could use to
‘lighten up his day’ and something to ‘cheer up his nights’. So with much
hesitation he opened the box to see the pranks in full view and off to the side
a bottle ofOgden's Old Firewhiskey was nestled into the box. He looked at the
bottle blankly for a bit before chuckling at the nerve the twins had. He was
sure if Molly knew about this they would be in big trouble.
Ginny’s gifts were two quills – pheasant and eagle owl – and an ever-changing
inkwell. All he would have to do is tap the inkwell with his wand and state the
color he wanted.
He was surprised a little, not so much that he got a gift from Neville. They
had become a little closer after the Ministry fiasco so he wasn’t too surprised
over the gift. He had bought one for Neville as well. Neville had gotten him a
black dragon hide rucksack that was enlarged on the inside to fit more than it
looked like it could and still remain lightweight. He liked the bag and decided
to start using that when term started again.
The last gift he went to open was from Remus and he briefly wondered how the
man was doing. He was doing missions for Dumbledore and they hadn’t talked much
except for the occasional letter when it could be sent. Opening the first
present he saw it was another book on defensive spells, hexes and charms.
Sitting that to the side he opened the other one and saw it was a photo album.
Opening it up and flipping through it his eyes slowly began to fill with tears.
They were pictures of his parents, Remus, Sirius, from Hogwarts and afterwards.
There were pictures of his parents wedding; one of his mom in a beautiful white
wedding dress and her hair done up hanging in tiny ringlets around her face.
She was flushed and smiling and waving at the person taking the picture and she
looked so happy as he held his father’s arm who was dressed in a black dress
robe. They were both beaming and waving at the camera. There was one them
dancing at their wedding also as they stared into each others eyes, oblivious
to anything else. He didn’t even realizing he was crying until the saline
droplets fell onto the picture.
Looking through it some more he saw a picture of Sirius leaning casually on his
broom and smirking at Remus who was trying to looking disapproving about
something. And then Sirius would throw his head back and laugh eyes twinkling
and Remus would smile and chuckle. Harry’s chest clenched again as he looked at
Sirius, head thrown back laughing, like in the Department of Mysteries before
he-
Harry shook his head and slammed the book shut, tears burning trails down his
cheeks. He was gulping in air or trying to because his chest was so tight he
couldn’t breathe. And he couldn’t see as tears obscured his vision. He didn’t
want to think about this! Not today. He doesn’t want to think about the way
Sirius looked before he-
NO, he shouted at himself close to panting because he just couldn’t breathe.
His throat felt clogged like his heart was blocking passage for air to get it.
And he didn’t want to think about THAT! No, no, no he didn’t want to think
about that. Pushing the photo album away he got up and went to the bathroom. A
shower would help, some, yes it would. He was almost hysterical in his own
thoughts but he didn’t care. The image of Sirius before he-
No don’t think about that damn it, he scolded himself and walked into the
bathroom. He turned the water on as hot as it would go and stripped down before
stepping under the spray. A waterfall of hot droplets rained down on his body
as he pressed his palms against the tiled wall and hung his head. He still
couldn’t breath and was taking deep, slow breaths in through the mouth and out
through the nose. And he was still crying but you couldn’t tell.
He stood there like that for a half hour before getting out. He made his way
back to the dorm and quickly got dressed throwing on a loose pair of black
jeans and a loose long sleeve blue shirt. He pointedly ignored looking at the
photo album and slipped on his black combat boots. Grabbing a coat he quickly
opened his trunk and searched through it until he found his butterfly knife and
stuck it in his jeans pocket, putting his wand in his coat pocket. With that he
walked out of the room feeling cold with his chest aching like someone stabbed
him in it.
He left the tower and walked the halls until he came to the court yard. It was
cold out and the ground was covered in fresh fallen snow. Looking up he saw
that it was lightly snowing, small flakes drifting from the gray cloudy sky. He
looked around and walked over to where the wall of the castle would hide him
from prying eyes. He took off his coat and rolled up his shirts sleeves. Taking
the butterfly knife from his pocket he flipped it so the blade was out. Without
a moments hesitation he put blade to skin and cut a diagonal line from wrist to
elbow.
The blood flowed freely and ran down his arm before falling onto the snow that
glittered like diamonds and was splashed by the red of his life blood. He made
another cut on top of that and sank to the ground, dropping the knife and
cradling his head. He was crying again, sobbing quietly in the cold snow
tainted with his blood. And now he was getting dizzy. He didn’t know why he was
dizzy and when he opened his eyes and looked up he saw everything was blurry,
like he didn’t have his contacts in when he knew he did. His head throbbed
painfully before blackness took over and he fell unconscious.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Draco stepped out into the courtyard after following Potter. He had been coming
up from his room when he caught a glimpse of Potter. Deciding it could be fun
to see what the Gryffindor was up to he had followed him outside. He wasn’t
wearing a cloak so the biting cold was worse for him and he had been about to
turn and go when he saw Potter disappear behind the side wall. Now very curious
he walked to the wall and peeked around the corner.
He froze when he looked. There was Potter with a knife in his hand cutting into
his arm. He watched as he cut again and fell to the ground crying still frozen
in place trying to understand what he was seeing. Then Potter slumped to the
ground not moving and he snapped out of his trance. Working in an almost
automatic state he rushed forward and rolled Potter over looking at his arm.
The cuts were still bleeding heavily and he took out his wand muttering a
sufficient enough healing charm. He wasn’t skilled in healing but he knew
enough to heal his cuts when he slashed his own flesh.
Not knowing what else to do he grabbed Harry’s coat, the knife which he slipped
into his pocket and pulled his sleeves down. Pulling him up with difficulty, he
supported his weight and wanting to know what was going on with the Golden Boy
decided to take him to his room. With a quick thought of not wanting to be
caught hauling an unconscious Gryffindor around he cast a disillusionment charm
on the black haired boy. Harry blended into the landscape and Draco began the
trek back to his room.
It was slow because he had to drag Harry with him who had shot up in height
over the summer and was his height maybe an inch taller than him. He didn’t
know why he was doing this, why he was so keen on knowing what was wrong with
the Boy Who Lived but he was and that was that. He made it to his room without
incident remarkably and said the password for the door before dragging the boy
in. He laid him on his couch in the sitting room, took the charm off and put
the coat on a side table as he sat in the other chair in the room.
He looked at the boy on the couch in front of him, trying to figure out why the
Golden Boy of Gryffindor would do such a think as cut himself. This was the Boy
Who Lived; he had friends and the perfect life, right? This was a curious
predicament indeed. He decided to wait for the other boy to wake up. This was
something he didn’t want to miss and he couldn’t wait to see how Potter would
talk his way out of this one. To pass the time Draco picked up his
Transfiguration book and, settled into the chair in front of the crackling
fire.
A half hour passed in an almost silence except for the crackling of the fire,
the turning of pages and the occasional sigh. Draco looked up when he heard a
soft groan and saw his guest moving and his eyes fluttering. Finally the lids
lifted to show cloudy emerald eyes and Harry sat up with another groan,
clutching at his head that began to pound at the sudden movement. Harry looked
up and looked directly into the face of Draco Malfoy.
“What the fuck!” he exclaimed scrambling off the couch and falling on the
floor. His head began to hurt more and he saw the room un-focus and go blurry.
Clutching his head again he glanced at the blonde who looked amused at his
actions.
“Welcome back to the land of the conscious Potter,” Draco drawled with a smirk,
eyes glinting in amusement.
Harry looked around the room slowly, taking everything in. He wasn’t familiar
with this room and he was on guard immediately. Then he caught on to what the
other boy had said. “What do you mean?” and then it all came rushing back: His
breakdown this morning after looking at the pictures, getting showered and
dressed, going outside and cutting his arm and then…nothing. He couldn’t
remember anything after that. He looked sharply at Malfoy who was still
smirking at him.
“Well you were unconscious, the opposite of conscious. That’s being awake,
aware, alert, cognizant-”
“I know what it means you prat!” Harry snapped glaring at the blonde,
interrupting him.
“Then you need to be more clear on what your asking.” Draco said matter-of-
factly, staring innocently at the black haired boy.
Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The dizziness had worn off but
he still had a headache that was throbbing dully in his head. He chose to push
the pain to the back of his mind and find out what was going on. Looking back
at Malfoy he sighed and then scowled. Then it hit him like a horde of rampaging
hippogriffs, what Malfoy had said earlier. He had been unconscious, most likely
after cutting himself which meant he had blacked out in the court yard in the
snow. If Malfoy had found him unconscious, which he was almost positive he had,
then the blonde Slytherin had found him…
“No,” he whispered eyes wide and panicked. “No, no, no.” he kept whispering
softly to himself shaking his head slowly. A cold fear had washed over him at
the possibility that Malfoy knew his secret.
Draco was looking at Potter no longer as amused as before. The panicked look
that crossed the other’s face told Draco he should speak up before Potter did
something rash and stupid. “Potter, calm down.” he stated calmly and firmly
watching the Gryffindor.
“Calm down? CALM DOWN!” Harry nearly yelled as he stared at the blonde. “How
the fuck do you expect me to calm down when you…when …you know!” He said
looking at the blonde accusingly. He took a deep breath wanting to calm down.
He couldn’t approach this hot-headedly. He would calm down and find a way to
get Malfoy to keep his stupid mouth shut.
Draco watched Potter throw his tantrum before trying to calm down. He was
amazed to see Potter drop the mask and pull it back on so quickly. He wasn’t so
sure about this now. What was he to say to Potter? ‘I saw you slicing your arm
up and wanted to know why?’ Like that would work. He watched the boy as his
face became a blank mask, eyes unreadable and face expressionless.
Finally calm Harry stood up from the floor and looked around. He saw his coat
that he had worn on a side table and, grabbing it, he began to search through
the pockets. He came up with his wand but his knife was gone. Turning to Malfoy
who was sitting there looking the slightest bit impatient he fixed the
Slytherin with an intense look. Draco looked back as the teen in front of him
stood there.
“Why don’t you take a seat Potter?” Draco said softly raising an eyebrow.
Potter’s intense stare was starting to make him slightly uncomfortable, like
the raven haired boy could see into his mind and was slowly stripping down his
defenses, yet he didn’t squirm under the scrutiny.
“You know don’t you? And where the hell is my knife?” Harry asked ignoring the
question to sit. This was Malfoy and he was bound to use this against him.
Draco took a moment to decide where to begin and then sighed inwardly knowing
this was going to be hard. “Know what exactly? That you cut yourself? Yes, I
know. I found you in the courtyard after you passed out.” Draco said, omitting
a few facts. Potter didn’t really need to know that he had followed him out to
the courtyard. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the knife he had
picked up earlier. He looked at it, having not really looked at it before. It
was strange but nice looking. He had never seen a knife like this before and
was mildly intrigued.
“You can hand it over Malfoy,” Harry interrupted Draco’s inspection. His voice
was a low and calm tone. Draco looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow before
handing the knife to the raven haired teen who put the knife in his pocket.
“Since when does Gryffindor’s Golden Boy mutilate himself? Something gone wrong
in Perfect Potter’s life?” Okay, so he wasn’t being quite nice about this but
he didn’t see why someone with Potter’s life who was probably worshipped by his
muggle relatives would cut himself. Plus baiting Potter was an added gift.
But Harry didn’t rise to the bait like he knew Malfoy was expecting him too.
“You don’t know anything about my life Malfoy and its none of your business
when I started to cut myself. I want to know what it’s going to take for you to
keep your mouth shut about this?” Harry said keeping his gaze on the blonde.
So, Draco thought looking back at Potter. He didn’t rise to the bait and he,
naturally, wants me to keep quiet. Maybe I can find out what he’s hiding?
“Seriously Potter, what could you have to hurt yourself over?” He knew he was
most likely treading into dangerous waters but he had always been a curious
person and he was definitely curious about Potter.
Harry glared at Malfoy heatedly, stare almost burning through his head it
seemed. “You wouldn’t understand and anyway, I’m not going to tell you
anything.” Harry snapped.
“Who says I wouldn’t understand? I might. You don’t know me Potter, just as you
claim I don’t know you, so whose to say I won’t understand?” Draco retorted
with a slight sneer, not at all liking Potter’s assumption of him.
Harry looked at him for a moment in silent contemplation. Could Draco Malfoy of
all people understand him and what he’s going through? Could he understand what
it feels like to not be loved, to be abused and degraded? Harry didn’t think he
could. This was Malfoy, he was thinking about. Rich, obnoxious, snobby,
pampered and spoiled beyond measure Draco Malfoy. He couldn’t be able to
understand what Harry was going through. Could he? Most people thought he,
Harry, were rich and spoiled at his muggle relatives’ house but they didn’t see
behind the mask he wore to ensure everyone continued to think that. Could
Malfoy be like that? Harry wasn’t sure.
“How could you possibly understand Malfoy? You, rich, spoiled pure-blood that
you are?” Harry asked with a scowl and veiled curiosity.
Draco thought how to go about this and not make himself to vulnerable to the
other teen. As of now he had something against Potter but if he gave Potter
something against himself, something he wanted kept secret then neither could
speak of it without getting their secret told by the other. It was risky, but
Potter seemed the type to keep something secret to save his own skin, Draco
could see that. So with careful deliberation he pulled his wand from inside his
robe and cast a silencing charm on the room, smirking as he saw Potter tense
even more when he had drew the long piece of wood from his robe.
“Alright Potter, I’m too damn curious for my own good. You want to know how I
could possibly understand you? Well, you’ll find out but this goes no further
then this room and stays between you and I got that?” Draco asked with a hard
note in his otherwise emotionless voice.
Harry looked at Malfoy with a calculated look. How was he to trust that Malfoy
was telling the truth? Could he risk it, knowing what would happen if others
found out his secret? But, he had to admit to himself, he was curious about
what Malfoy was going to do to show he understood. If he had a secret of the
blonde’s then Malfoy couldn’t speak about his secret without Harry telling
Malfoy’s, if the blonde truly wanted it kept secret. With another moment of
consideration Harry nodded his head. “Okay, as long as you don’t say anything
about what you know about me.”
Draco took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. This was harder than he thought
but something spurred him to continue to show Potter that he might understand.
Maybe it was that small inkling that had never truly left of him, in some way,
wanting to befriend Harry that he had constantly denied. He didn’t know but
with a heavy sigh he took off his robe and rolled up the sleeves of the sweater
he was wearing. Picking up his wand again he muttered the spell that would
cancel the concealing charm he wore.
***** Revelations, A Truce and a Journal for Your Thoughts *****

Author's notes: Check chapter one
===============================================================================
Note: Journal Entries will be done like this! Look forward to them in any
chapter after this, but I’ll most likely remind you at the beginning anyway!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 8: Revelations, A Truce and a Journal for Your Thoughts
As Malfoy muttered something under his breath Harry watched transfixed as
multiple scars were revealed. Silver, pink and red; healing, old and new all
displayed on the milky pale arms of Draco Malfoy. Harry was frozen in place at
the sight; scars like his on a person who he hadn’t thought would have these
scars. He was trying to understand what was being shown to him. Eyes wide and
mouth parted slightly green met grey and a hundred different questions
flickered in the emerald eyes.
Draco stared back, not going to shy away. He had made the decision to show
Potter this, not only for his curiosity about Potter but, he admits in the
deepest part of himself, maybe because he wanted to know someone understood
what he was going through just the tiniest bit. While his godfather was okay he
wanted someone his own age to know and understand. Ironic that it should be his
rival of all people. Draco’s lips twisted into a bitter smirk as he saw the
surprise and questions in those green eyes.
“Surprised Potter? Rich, evil Malfoy mutilates himself just like Golden Boy
Potter.” Draco said with a bitter sort of chuckle bubbling from his throat.
The sound of the blonde’s voice snapped Harry out of his trance and he moved
his gaze from Malfoy’s arm to his eyes. Stormy grey eyes looked back at him;
their depths showing an emotionless honesty that stunned the black haired boy.
“Malfoy,” Harry began slowly eyes drifting to the pale and scarred arm again.
“Why are you showing this to me?”
“A few reasons Potter. Maybe I want to prove you wrong that I could understand,
maybe I want someone who could understand me. Then maybe again I’m doing this
to lure you into an elaborate trap by the Dark Lord. There are plenty of
reasons why,” Draco answered with a smirk.
Harry looked back at the blonde and smirked a bit also. “Yes Malfoy, I’m sure
that Voldemort ordered you to mar your perfect skin just to lure me to him.”
Harry said with heavy sarcasm, ignoring Malfoy's flinch at Voldemort's name.
“So what’s the deal Malfoy? What’s really going on?”
Pulling his sleeves back down Draco looked at Potter who was sitting now, calm
but alert of his surroundings as Draco leaned back a bit in the chair he was
sitting in. “I’m curious you can say as to what reason you have to cut
yourself.” Draco answered casually with a shrug.
“Ron and Hermione don’t even know about this, not even counting the reason
behind why I do it. So why would I tell you about it?” the raven haired teen
asked with a raised eyebrow.
“True, true Potter.” Draco said and fell silent for a moment. He was deciding
how to go about this. He looked away from Potter’s gaze and bit his bottom lip
gently in thought.
Harry watched the blonde before him slightly bewildered. He had been confused
by Malfoy’s behavior since the beginning of the year really. At the end of last
year the blonde had been furious with him for getting his father locked up in
jail but when they came back in September the blonde had basically left him and
his friends alone aside from the occasional taunt every once in awhile.
Admittedly, after the initial spite had died down of putting Lucius in prison
and pissing Malfoy off Harry had become slightly guilty about it. No matter
what Malfoy had done to him, said to him and his friends he couldn’t help but
feel the slightest bit bad about putting someone’s father away. That thought
pained him sometimes, knowing that he had taken someone’s father from them, no
matter that it was Draco Malfoy’s father and that Malfoy junior was as much a
bastard as his father. It was the fact that he took someone’s parent away from
them.
Uncomfortable with the track his thoughts were taking Harry shifted slightly
and looked back to the blonde. Some slow rising realization began to bubble up
in the raven haired teen, things slowly clicking into place. “Malfoy,” Harry
began slowly catching the Slytherins attention again. Malfoy looked to Harry
almost like he forgot the other boy was there and raised an eyebrow. “You want
something from me but I don’t think its completely wanting to know why I cut.”
The Gryffindor continued slow and even.
Draco looked at Potter momentarily startled by his perceptiveness. This wasn’t
the Golden Boy he was used to and it threw him a bit, unsettling his
equilibrium. The Gryffindor, though he was loathe to admit it was right. While
he wanted to know why he cut he also wanted something more. Deep down, in that
part of him that was still that hopeful eleven year old, that he hated to admit
existed, he wanted to become Potter’s friend. Damn the Gryffindor Golden Boy
for finding brains, Draco thought almost frowning but keeping his face blank
like always. With a sigh Draco looked at the other boy. “When did you become so
perceptive Potter?” he said with slightly narrowed eyes. He was stalling from
saying anything as long as possible.
“I’ve always been perceptive Malfoy I just never always used that
perceptiveness. And your avoiding the subject,” Harry said flatly with a smirk.
Despite the situation he was having fun throwing the blonde off balance with
his uncharacteristic behavior.
Draco growled lowly alternately annoyed and grudgingly amazed at Potter’s
Slytherin traits. Calming himself down he looked at the black haired teen. “We
haven’t really fought much this school year, have we?” he drawled nonchalantly.
“No. We haven’t. This is amazing considering at the end of last year you were
whining about killing me.” Harry said raising an eyebrow with a faintly amused
look.
Draco glared briefly at the Gryffindor before smirking some. “You never know, I
still might. But as to that let’s just say I’m not as upset about you landing
father dearest in jail as I was at first.” Draco said carefully, with a casual
shrug. “Back to what I was saying, though, we haven’t really fought much this
school year. What would you think of a truce, secretively of course, between
us?” Draco asked nonchalantly. Maybe becoming friends if at all possible, Draco
thought silently to himself.
Harry was looking at the blonde across from him in shock, eyebrows raised, eyes
wide and mouth partly open. Did Malfoy just ask for a truce, Harry thought
wildly. Yes, they hadn’t been fighting much lately, since school started really
but a truce! Harry’s brow furrowed then as he stared at Malfoy intently. It was
obvious there was more to this truce, Harry just knew it. This was a Malfoy and
a Slytherin they didn’t do anything without gaining something for themselves.
But what could Malfoy gain from a truce with Harry? He could be doing this for
the Dark Lord, which was a possibility. But surely Malfoy and Voldemort knew
that them being such rivals they would hardly trust each other, even Voldemort
must know that. So what was the reason? “A truce,” Harry said slowly still
looking at the blonde intensely. “You, Draco Malfoy want a truce with me, Harry
Potter?”
Draco rolled his eyes and sighed. “That’s what I just said isn’t it?” Draco
snapped.
“Well, yeah it’s just unexpected to hear you ask that.” Harry said. He thought
about it for a moment as he sat there. The truce would help him to not worry
about fighting with Malfoy, and since they hadn’t really that year no one would
notice the change. Plus he could concentrate on more important things then when
the blonde annoyance would strike next. “A truce. I think that’s fine,” Harry
said slowly with a cautious undertone to his voice that was barely perceptible.
Draco looked so briefly surprised that it was hard to tell it had been there.
But inside he was downright shocked. He hadn’t thought Potter would agree,
honestly, and thought he would be rejected again. In fact he had been prepared
for it but this surprised him. Regaining his composure he looked to Harry with
a small smirk and held out his hand, a gesture reminiscent of their first year.
It was a tense moment, silent and still, then Harry reached forward and clasped
that pale hand with his and shook. The eleven year old in Draco celebrated this
moment with a glee most wouldn’t have thought possible. They dropped hands and
looked at each other in silence, a slightly awkward moment between them. Harry
looked nervously at his watch and his eyes widened in surprise. It was only ten
minutes until dinner.
“Well Malfoy I’m going to go since it’s almost dinner and walking into the
Great Hall together wouldn’t really be helping the secrecy issue.” Harry said
standing from his seat and pulling on his coat.
Draco cast a quick Tempus spell to see the time and was slightly surprised
also. “Yes, it wouldn’t help with the secrecy to see the two of us together.”
Draco said not really knowing what else to say. He wanted to invite Potter back
but didn’t want to sound too eager.
“Yeah. Well, see you later, maybe tomorrow since so few are staying.” Harry
said with a shrug, his tone indifferent.
Draco gave a shrug himself. “Maybe,” he drawled casually as he walked Harry to
the door. He opened it the door and Harry stepped out. “To the left, then
right, and straight from there you’ll find your way back Potter,” Draco said as
the boy stood outside the door.
“Right, Malfoy. Bye,” Harry waved over his shoulder as he began his trek up the
hall. Draco looked after him for a moment before stepping back into his room
and closing the door. He pressed his back to the door and did something many
would have thought him incapable of. He smiled a real, genuine bright smile
that lit up his face and even showed in his grey eyes. With a shake of his head
he began to get himself ready for dinner.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Harry walked away from Malfoy’s private rooms shock and disbelief till running
through him. He made sure he was out of the dungeons before making his way
quickly to a hidden alcove. In the alcove he touched a stone that was a shade
darker than the others with the palm of his hand flat against the cold stone.
The stone glowed faintly white before the area of wall dissolved into a
shimmering almost translucent patch and he stepped through it like it was
water, the wall solidifying behind him.
It was another room he had found on his late night wanderings from the
beginning of the year when he couldn’t or didn’t want to sleep. He stepped into
the room which was about the size of his bedroom at Privet Drive. The room only
had a desk with a straight-backed dark blue chair to the left, a small double-
sized bed to the right and two unlit torches that lit up when he walked in, in
two corners of the room on the left wall. It was a simple room really that he
had no idea what used to be used for and didn’t really care at the moment.
He walked over to the bed and sat down staring at the opposite wall blankly for
a moment. Today had been surreal, to say the least. He shook his head lightly
and checked his coat pocket making sure he had his wand and knife. When he was
sure he did he checked his arm. The cut was healed pretty well, or more
appropriately the blood had been staunched with the cut still evident. Malfoy
had to have done that and he wondered if Malfoy had purposely not healed the
cut to where it wouldn’t exist or scar and why he had done that when anyone
else would have healed the cut also, leaving no scarring.
He shook his head again and decided to think about this weird day later after
dinner. He rose from the bed and walked back to the wall placing his hand on it
again and stepping through once he could. He left the alcove and began to head
for the Great Hall, thoughts swirling through his heads. He made it to the
Great Hall and sat at the long table that had been made for those remaining. He
sat at the end in his same seat from before, ignoring the other students who
greeted him and not hearing the professors’ greetings. He had way too much on
his mind to notice such things.
Snape who was scowling at Flitwick’s annoyingly cheerful attitude as he talked
to McGonagall noticed Potter’s distracted entrance. The boy looked to be in
thought about something and was quite oblivious to his surroundings. Snape
watched Potter discreetly as he was engaged in a conversation with professor
Vector on pain-relieving potions.
He briefly got distracted from his watch of Potter when Draco walked in and he
gave the blonde an intense look as he sat down. He was still upset with his
godson for his blatant misuse of a potion, especially one that could be
dangerous. He knew Draco knew better and that was what made him so mad and
disappointed in the boy. Severus Snape knew better than many the horrors of
nightmares but he didn’t try to overdose himself to avoid them. So he
understood Draco’s need to escape those things that haunt him in sleep. He just
didn’t want his godson to overdose.
Sighing mentally the Potions Master went back to his study of one Harry Potter.
He had to grudgingly admit the boy was good with hiding his feeling and
thoughts. Besides the fact that the brat was wearing a mask he couldn’t tell
anything else and that was frustrating him. A Potter and a Gryffindor shouldn’t
be that good at masking themselves. Shouldn’t be able to get past his
inspection, he was a spy after all and knew what to look for. But Potter
stumped him. He’d become even better in his occlumency and that avenue was no
longer an easy place for him to find anything the brat might be hiding. Yes,
now he could see why Albus had asked this of him because it was obvious that
there was something going on with Potter. Something he intended to find out.
After Draco came into the Great Hall and sat down in the same seat from before
the food appeared for the Christmas Feast. He began to pile his food on his
plate as he ignored all those around him. He had felt the intense stare of his
godfather as he came in and sighed in relief when its weight was lifted. He
still felt bad about disappointing his godfather and knew that unless he kept
his promise the trust Severus had for him would start to waver. He sighed
quietly to himself and adverted his thoughts.
“Something the matter Draco?” Baddock asked in an indifferent tone of voice.
Draco glared at the boy, annoyed to be interrupted form his thoughts. “No, not
that it’s any of you business Baddock.” He bit out in a quietly icy tone.
Baddock nodding quickly with wide eyes before turning back to his plate. Draco
sneered at him before returning to his plate and his thoughts. He glanced
discreetly as Potter who sat one down and diagonal from him. He was still
mildly shocked with how things had turned out with the other boy but satisfied
all the same. Fighting the grin wanting to breakout on his face he took a sip
of his drink. He was looking forward to see where this truce went and was
ridiculously eager for his next chat with the Gryffindor. Shaking his head he
pushed these thoughts aside and concentrated on his meal.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
After the Christmas Feast Harry departed from the Great Hall and made his way
back to Gryffindor Tower. He got there, said the password to the Fat Lady and
walked in heading straight for his dorm. He stood in the middle of the room and
looked around himself. His pile of presents was still on the floor from his
hasty departure earlier and the photo album was lying against the wall where he
had thrown it. He walked over to the album and picked it up without looking at
it, closing it and walking back over to his other presents. He put the album on
top of his trunk and looked down at the rest of the pile.
With a thoughtful look on his face he bent down and picked up the black leather
bound journal, the pens and pencils and the pencil sharpener. With a shrug and
a sigh he brought the items over to his bed and plopped them down before
sitting down his self, folding his legs Indian style under him. He eyed the
objects some more, not sure why he was even thinking about writing in the
journal but with another sigh resigned himself to doing just that. He opened
the pack of black muggle pens and took one into his hand and then picked up the
journal and opened it to the first page. Blank, line paper stared back at him
as he looked at the journal in his hands. I can’t believe I’m actually doing
this, he thought with disbelief shaking his head a few time before he put pen
to paper and began writing.
Dec. 25, 1996
Its Christmas today and the day has been full of many things. I had woke up
this morning determined to at least enjoy the day and not let my depression
drag me down but in the end I kind of let that happen anyway. I had got up this
morning and opened all my presents feeling quite happy about things. I had
gotten candy and other assorted treats from Ron along with a really cool dragon
tooth necklace. Hermione got me a book on defensive spells and this journal
along with a few other things. I got gifts from Molly and Arthur, Fred and
George, Neville and Ginny also, but the gift that struck me the most was
Remus’s. From him I got a book on defensive spells also but I also got a photo
album full of pictures of my parents, Remus and Sirius from when they were in
school and even some of them after school before everything went bad.
I had leafed through it looking at the pictures before I came across one that
reminded me of Sirius in a way I don’t want to think about. The picture
reminded me of his face on That Day and I lost it. I remember that I shoved the
book away from me, took a shower and got dressed before I grabbed my coat and
dagger and left the tower. I had walked to the Courtyard where I thought I
would be alone. I took out my knife and began to cut at my arm but apparently I
went to deep this time because I fell unconscious afterwards.
When I woke up though I was shocked with where I had been. I was in Draco
Malfoy’s rooms! I had been lying on the couch with him across from me. But that
didn’t shock me and, admittedly, scare me as much as when I realized he KNEW.
He knew about me cutting myself, I didn’t even think he might not know. The
look in his grey eyes was enough for me to know that he knew. But things took a
decidedly bizarre turn. Malfoy revealed something to me that shocked me because
I didn’t expect a spoiled, selfish Daddy’s boy like Malfoy to mutilate himself.
But he showed me; scars of all kinds, old and new decorated his pale arms
marring the skin.
I was shocked and surprised and confused and whole hell of a lot of other
emotions that I had just stared at his arm. I couldn’t believe he was showing
this to me, Harry Potter, his rival of all people just because he was curious
about my scars. There had to be more to it I had thought then. And then it all
takes in even more unusual turn when he proposes a truce between us. For what
reason he wants this truce still plagues my mind and I’m not sure what the real
reason it. Predictably I would go with the reason being he wants to walk in his
father’s footsteps and was trying to worm his way into my trust so he could
hand me over to old Snake Face. But I’ve changed a lot from what I used to
think, from what was fed to me by Ron and Hagrid and any other person who told
me Slytherins were evil. Besides, the look in his eyes when he told me “But as
to that let’s just say I’m not as upset about you landing father dearest in
jail as I was at first” was mostly guarded except for a shining of something
like happiness in those grey eyes. I can’t say I’m not curious about it because
I am more than I should be probably.
But as I said at first I was skeptical about his offer of a truce between us
but as I thought at dinner tonight I think I’m slowly finding some good things
about this truce. We already basically ignore each other except for his
occasional attacks of taunts and barbs that I retaliate with but now he’ll
(hopefully) ignore me altogether and not bother with the taunts. Well, as long
as his taunts aren’t vindictive and a little more teasing I’m fine.
Well blonde confusing prats aside, I noticed something at dinner tonight that I
noticed at dinner since break started. I’m being watched. I’m sure of it. I
have become so tuned to people watching me being who I am that I FEEL it when
someone’s eyes are on me. I’m not sure who it is, though I have some guesses. I
would say Malfoy was watching me but I’m not honestly sure it’s him. I’m
leaning more to it being Dumbledore since he’s always trying to make sure he
knows everything going on, especially where I’m concerned, the barmy old git!
I’m still mad at him honestly and it pisses me off to know he’s trying to keep
track of me like I’m a child. I’m not child, never have been really and I don’t
like to be coddled and talked down to.
Which Hermione had been doing to me before the break, coddling me I meant. She
gets all mother-y on me and it’s frustrating. Maybe if I let her know I’m
writing in this stupid journal she’ll back off on the mothering bit. But
knowing Hermione, she probably won’t.
Harry stopped and looked at the words on the page and a half he had written. He
had just written what was on his mind and all that came out. He was surprised
to feel a little better after writing down his thoughts and looked at the
journal incredulously again. Okay so maybe not so bad then, Harry thought as he
closed the book and gather the stuff together. He got off his bed and walked to
where his other presents were. He put the journal and writing tools into the
new back he got from Neville and deciding to sort things later got changed for
bed. Once he was done he picked up one of the new books on defensive spells he
got, the one from Remus, he thought as he glanced at the cover and crawled into
his four poster bed setting back for a nice read before he went to sleep.
***** Getting to know you, Watching and the students return *****

Author's notes: Check Chapter One
===============================================================================
Author’s Note: After doing a bit of research on the Harry Potter lexicon I’d
like to inform you the dates of the Christmas holiday break. End of term and
students leaving – Dec. 23 and students returning on – January 5 and term
starts on the 6th of January. So from the time Harry and Draco talk it will be
10 days left to break, the students return of the 11th day and start classes on
the 12th day. The last chapter took place December 25.
 
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 9: Getting to know you, Watching and the students return
The rest of the break seemed to go by slowly in Harry’s opinion. After that
first talk and truce with Malfoy they had talked at least once every day in
either Malfoy’s rooms or other discreet places where they wouldn’t be seen. The
day after the Courtyard Incident as Harry had come to calling it he had met the
blonde again and they had talked in the Room Of Requirement. They hadn’t talked
about anything too deep not completely comfortable with each other as of that
point but they did talk about common ground things like classes for one. Harry
and Draco traded knowledge on DADA, Charms, Potions and other subjects.
Draco had been admittedly surprised at Potter’s knowledge of potions and the
art of potions making. He had known since the beginning of sixth year that
Potter had improved in the subject but he was surprised to see that Potter had
actual knowledge in the ingredients and procedures of making a potion. It was a
good discussion between them. Harry found that Draco wasn’t as adverse to Care
of Magical Creatures as he seemed. While he didn’t want to be around dangerous
creatures that could maul him to death he did like to learn about them. The
discussion of different creatures had been interesting. They had also talked
about Quidditch, at the time staying away from serious issues.
They did that for the first week of their truce contenting themselves to
getting along and getting to know each other a bit. They found they had a lot
more in common then they had previously thought and was surprised when the
tense atmosphere gave way to a more relaxed and easy one. The next two days was
much of the same with both dancing around the heavier subjects and trying to
avoid as much as possible talking about their problems but both knew that they
couldn’t last long at this as they found themselves liking the other and
enjoying the new budding friendship more than either would admit.
It was the day before the students were to return to the castle and Harry and
Draco were in Draco’s rooms, Harry sprawled out on the couch languidly head
resting on his arm as Draco sat in a chair across from him sideways with his
legs thrown over the arm and his back resting against the other arm. They
looked quite relaxed if one glanced at them but on closer inspection you could
seem the mild tension in each of them.
Draco looked at Harry – somewhere along the break they had begun using first
names in private – and held back a sigh. He was tired and exhausted even if he
didn’t look it. It was the fourth of January, one day before the students
returned, but that wasn’t bothering him really. He didn’t sleep last night
afraid to suffer through the nightmares he knew would come. He had done as
Severus asked and took his last six vials of Dreamless Sleep every three days.
The last time he took it was the second before he went to bed and he didn’t
want to sleep last night learning that on the days he didn’t take the potion he
had nightmares plaguing him. He sighed and was startled when Harry spoke to
him.
“What’s the matter Draco?” he muttered softly looking over to the blonde. They
had been sitting in a comfortable silence for the last ten minutes when he
heard his companion sigh. The break had been shockingly enjoyable and the
company of the blonde had been a welcome relief from too much thought of bad
things he didn’t want to think about. But the last few days things had begun to
come back to him, pressing in on him and scrabbling for attention.
Draco looked at Harry and tried to figure out what to say. He could tell him
the truth or he could continue to edge around the issue. He thought for a
minute as he looked away from Harry to the blazing fire. With a sigh and his
eyes still on the fire he said in a neutral tone, “I didn’t sleep last night,
haven’t been asleep since I woke up yesterday morning. I’m just tired is all.”
It was the truth he was tired and hadn’t slept since waking up yesterday
morning. He kept his gaze on the dancing flames even as felt the intense stare
from Harry boring into his back.
Harry was still sprawled out in his lazy position but his eyes were sharp as he
looked at the blonde in front him. Through that neutral tone he could tell that
there was more to what Draco said but he also knew that if Draco wanted to talk
he wouldn’t for fear of making himself too vulnerable. While they had become
something of friends they hadn’t spilled there deepest secrets to the other and
Harry didn’t expect Draco too. Biting back a sigh Harry decided to manipulate
this in a way to learn more about the blonde and to get him to talk. Not moving
from his position he kept his eyes on the blonde as he said calmly, “I started
not long before third year, sometime after second actually, during the summer.”
Draco snapped his head around and looked at the other teen, confusion evident
on what he meant. Harry just gave him a pointed look and then glanced quickly
to his own arm and back to the blonde. Realization dawned and Draco looked at
Harry with shock. “About the middle of third year was when I started.” He
stated in a quiet voice, tone flat. Draco didn’t understand why Harry just told
him that out-of-the-blue and was the tiniest bit confused.
“I started because I had heard things, read things, little things about why
people did it. I began to do it as a sort of release in the beginning,
something to distract me from other things in my life.” Harry stated looking
passed the blonde and into the fire. He swallowed hard, took a brief moment to
breathe and went silent.
Draco looked at Harry and slowly realization came to him. Harry was giving him
a chance to speak what was on his mind or at least a bit of it and get
something in return. He was working in an almost Slytherin manner. “It was a
bit of wanting release from the troubles of life and defiance against my
father; doing something so…un-Malfoy-ish in his opinion though he didn’t know
about it.” Draco said with a small shrug. Draco was a bit…amazed that they were
talking almost casually about mutilating their selves. It was almost funny that
all that edging around the topic lead to talking about it like they were
discussing the weather or Quidditch. He was once again shocked by the obvious
change in the Gryffindor. He looked at the teen and noticed him looking at him
oddly and was briefly confused until he realized what Harry was waiting for.
The next move was his if he wanted to talk any further. He had learned that
strange quirk of Harry’s over the time they’ve talked. It wasn’t an expectant
look or anything it was a sort of intense look that at the same time was
indifferent. He looked at him and thought about what he wanted to say. He
wasn’t ready to divulge anymore information though, even if he got some from
Harry but he was silently grateful for the chance Harry was giving. Like a
silent: continue or stop, you choose. And so Draco changed the subject and
struck up a conversation on some topic or other and they slowly settled back
into a comfortable atmosphere that was no longer tense and both breathed a
silent sigh of relief for the reprieve.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
 
Snape sat in his private rooms on the day before the students returned in front
of the fire in his sitting room. He hadn’t been idle during the break making
sure to do what Dumbledore had asked (ordered?) of him and kept a watch on
Potter. He watched him during meals mostly when he was in the boy’s presence
the most. He had watched Potter all break and found some things strange about
the boy. He knew why Dumbledore had asked him to do it and not the boy’s Head
of House, McGonagall. He, as a spy, was more skilled to subtly watch a person,
to pick up on the small things most people would pass off as insignificant. He
knew that the smallest gesture or twitch could mean many different things and
nothing at the same time. He knew what to look for.
So he watched Potter and during meals was when he got the time to discreetly
examine the boy. Besides the fact of noticing his smiles never reached his eyes
or that the majority of his smiles were pasted on and fake, he also noticed the
faint discoloration under Potter’s eyes. He looked tired with a weary slump to
his shoulders, eyes half-lidded like he hadn’t been sleeping properly.
He also noticed that at meals Potter was slow in his pace to get to the table
and sit down, like he was preparing himself for something that was painful or
something he didn’t want to do. Then when he got to the table he was reluctant
to be added in conversation and only when addressed gave enough to be taken as
an answer and then only if spoken too never initiating the conversations
himself. Add to that his indifferent attitude towards everything, even through
talks of Quidditch that at first Snape thought was arrogance but realized after
careful thought was actual indifference, like couldn’t care more or less.
Snape had remembered a Quidditch match earlier in the school year, the second
match to be exact against Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. He normally wouldn’t have
paid attention but he had been grudgingly intrigued about the Potter that had
come back that year. It had been a slightly chilly November day and Snape had
remembered that at breakfast and as Potter walked out onto the pitch that he
looked exhausted and worn-out, though he was holding himself very well. Snape
remembered how lazy he had been flying compared to his usual technique, like he
could care less about catching the snitch. Then when he had the snitch in sight
he made – to the trained eye – a half-hearted attempt at catching it but in the
end Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker, had gotten it and Ravenclaw had won the game.
Potter had left the pitch right after that not even bothering to look back at
his teammates.
Snape had supposed he was upset about the lost but with adding everything
together that he was seeing now he wasn’t completely sure. To top off that
Potter was always hastily leaving meals, though there was no noticeable
difference in his expression his stride was just that scant bit quicker than
necessary.
To Snape, as far as he could tell, the boy was hesitant or didn’t want to be
around others much. He thought it was some Gryffindor moral or guilt/hero
complex to keep others at a distance to keep from them from dying after losing
that mutt of a godfather, Sirius Black. But he wasn’t sure that was completely
it because from what he’d been able to pick up he could see the signs of abuse
and depression, knowing them on a more personal level than he cared to think
about but that couldn’t be it. He snorted as he took a sip from the glass of
the scotch he was holding. This was Harry Potter the Boy Who Lived; he couldn’t
possibly be being abused. It’s probably stupid Gryffindor guilt, he thought as
he gazed into his fire pushing back memories of a man with black hair…fist
pummeling a body of a helpless child, the cries of a woman being raped for
trying to save that same boy and the insults and threats spat viciously in a
memory thought long repressed. No, Severus Snape didn’t want to relive those
dead and long ago memories and he decided maybe getting drunk would help him
forget.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Harry sat in his dorm room under the window looking out into the night sky. It
was after dinner and he had headed back here and locked himself up in his dorm
like he done everyday that week. He had his journal resting in his lap and a
pen hung in his relaxed grip. He had come to appreciate the black leather bound
journal that he not only wrote in but drew also. He found he liked drawing and
was pretty good at it. He didn’t find the journal as stupid as he first thought
when he had opened it on Christmas and not for the first time reminded himself
to give Hermione big thanks for her gift. It was something he could write his
most private and darkest thoughts in and he savored that.
Looking into the slightly misty night sky Harry sighed as he gripped the pen
tighter and pressed it to the journal.
Jan. 4, 1997
Today was a full of surprises and revelations. Draco and I were in his room
today, a usual occurrence this Christmas break. We had been talking about some
random subject when we had lapsed into silence. In the beginning those silences
were uncomfortable between us; we weren’t at ease around each other and
whenever silences fell we would be uncomfortable and uneasy not knowing what to
say to break it or make it more relaxed. But, amazingly, over the break we have
become more comfortable around each other. So we had lapsed into a comfortable
silence in each other’s presence. But when I heard him sigh I knew something
was up. I noticed, though it was very near undetectable, that he was looking
tired yesterday and today. It was a slight slump to the shoulders and small
barely noticeable lines to his eyes. I see that every time I look in the mirror
after a nightmare which, unfortunately, has been happening more frequently
during the break. I have been having nightmare/memories of Sirius as he fell
through the fail and a few of Vernon beating me; my most recent of this summer
after the Order’s “generous” convention to the Dursley’s and the beating I had
received in return. That had been one of worst since the summer after first
year.
But enough of my rambling on my horrid childhood, or lack there of I should
say. So, Draco sighed and I asked him what's wrong. Well to make a long drawn
out story short we ended up talking about when and why we started cutting
ourselves. Well, the why was of why we cut and not why as in the reason behind
it but still it was nice to know someone understand the reason I needed to do
it. And it’s shocking that it was Draco Malfoy who understood. I wonder what
the reason behind him cutting himself is. I mean I’ve always been of the
impression that his life was perfect; money, parents and anything he ever
wanted. I couldn’t see why he would start mutilating himself.
But then again everyone thinks I have a perfect life too, well, except for
Hermione and the Weasley’s and Dumbledore who KNOW I don’t. But they don’t know
the extent of my bad life and I’d like it to stay that way. I mean I know the
Weasley’s are just being friendly and that they care but I don’t want more pity
then they already have for me. I don’t want it and don’t need it! Anyway, the
rest of the students are returning tomorrow and the castle will be filled once
again and classes will start again. Hopefully things will look up for the start
of the term.
Closing the pen in the journal Harry sighed and stood up, setting the journal
in his new book bag. He didn’t want to be too broody before he went to bed as
it normally ending in a restless sleep. Already changed for the night he got
into bed and stared up at the canopy wondering what tomorrow will bring.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
 
The students returned the next night around dinner time after the train and
thestral driven carriage rides. Harry was sitting in the Great Hall that had
been restored to its original state with the four house tables once again
setting proudly in their places. Harry himself was sitting at the Gryffindor
table unsurprisingly. He was facing the Slytherin table and passing a calm and
impassive gaze up and down the table. He briefly rested his eyes on the blonde
head of Draco Malfoy who stared back just as calm and impassive before sweeping
his gaze around the rest of the hall. The students were just now trickling into
the room and Harry heard the loud and boisterous voices of his friends and
fellow Gryffindors.
“Oy! Harry how’re you mate?” came the bellowing voice of one Ron Weasley as he
and Hermione came toward their friend. Harry looked in their direction and gave
them that brilliant crooked grin of his as they got near.
“I’m good Ron,” he said as Hermione gave him a big hug and Ron patted him on
the shoulder with a huge smile. “Thanks for the gifts by the way, you guys. I
really liked them,” Harry said as the three friends sat down.
“Your welcome mate and thanks for what you got me,” Ron said turning slightly
pink with a shy smile on his face. Harry had gotten him new Quidditch arm and
leg guards and a pair of Quidditch gloves all of good quality.
“Yes Harry, thanks for my gift as well it was very educational and thoughtful.”
Hermione said with a bright smile as she pulled out the exact book he had
gotten her. It was a book on magical creatures and beings and the laws
pertaining to them.
“Your welcome guys, it was nothing, really.” Harry replied with a small smile
and eye roll. Dinner began and everyone ate chatting happily about their
holidays and what they did. The Great Hall was filled with happy, raucous
chatter as dinner continued. Harry talked to his friends and dorm mates,
thanking Neville for the book bag he had gotten him. It was good times and
Harry smiled as he gazed at everyone around him chattering happy to their
friends. He cast the occasional discreet glance at the Slytherin table, more
precisely Draco but no one noticed as he kept himself in conversation when
talked to but mostly staying silent.
“So Harry how was your break here at the castle?” Hermione asked as she took a
bite of vegetables from her plate, looking at the dark haired boy across from
her.
“It was fine Hermione. I basically stayed to myself and read or wrote, didn’t
really do anything interesting,” Harry answered with a shrug. Unless you count
becoming on good terms, almost like friends with Draco Malfoy, the boy who
tormented us for the last five years, than nothing interesting at all happened!
Harry thought sarcastically, stopping himself from snorting at the thought he
had. Hermione looked at him for a moment, closely but then nodded her head.
“Have you finished your holiday homework?” she said immediately switching to
her ‘professor’ mode. Harry nodded and looked at her with mock exasperation.
“Yes Hermione! I finished it had lots of time to do so. Did you Ron?” he asked,
wanting to take the attention off himself. It worked. Hermione looked at Ron
and glared at the red faced boy with a look that said ‘you better have’.
“Um, not all of it but Hermione I wanted to enjoy my break besides the work
isn’t due until the end of the week!” Ron whined.
“Ronald Weasley! You have to be more attentive with your school work. N.E.W.T.s
are coming up as you…” Hermione went on but Harry tuned her out happy the
attention was off of him. Soon dinner was over and the students departed to
their common rooms. The trio walked back to Gryffindor and entered the common
room. The night was spent talking happily until the students were tired and
decided to head to bed. Tomorrow classes would resume and life would fall back
into the pattern of school and classes and homework.
***** Classes resume, More secrets revealed, Quidditch match and unexpected
feelings. *****

Author's notes: Check chapter one
===============================================================================
Chapter 10: Classes resume, More secrets revealed, Quidditch match and
unexpected feelings.
The next day dawned bright and early and it was the first day of the second
part of term for students and professors alike. The occupants of the castle
went about their normal routine of waking and showering and preparing
themselves for the day ahead. Breakfast commenced and the population of
Hogwarts ate their fill, especially Harry Potter who had the feeling that today
would be a long day. He thought this as he walked to his first class on this
Wednesday morning with his friends. He wasn’t looking forward to potions today
but when Snape was your professor you never really looked forward to it. Unless
you’re Slytherin, Harry thought wryly as they entered the dungeon classroom and
took their seats.
The room began to slowly fill with students as Harry retrieved his things from
his book bag (the one Neville got him) and soon Snape was sweeping into the
room and class was beginning.
“Today you will be taking notes on a complicated sleeping potion that if you
blunder up,” he threw a brief look at the Gryffindors and sneered at them.
“Could cause serious consequences to the drinker. The ingredients needed in
this potion…” and Snape droned on throughout the class about the potion, its
ingredients, the procedure to make it and what it should look like and so on
and so forth. Harry dutifully took notes as Snape talked in that dry
condescending tone. He briefly wondered if the man could talk without sounding
patronizing once in the class period but decided it would probably hurt him too
much to do so.
Soon class was coming to a close and Snape looked around at all his students
sharply. “You are to study these notes and know the potion and how to brew it
by the next class. You will each being working alone on this potion and I
expect it to be done correctly,” he said more to his Slytherins really. He
looked at the Gryffindors and sneered again. “I don’t expect all of you to be
able to do it but do try and use your brains.” He finished just as the end of
class came. “You’re dismissed!” He snapped and the students gathered their
belongings and made it out of the room as quick as possible.
Ron, Hermione and Harry walked out of the room Ron muttering under his breath
about greasy git's and their bad attitudes. Harry and Hermione ignored him as
this was a common occurrence whenever they left potions class. Harry sighed
inwardly as they made their way to transfiguration. He was hoping the rest of
the year went by smoothly as had the first half. Voldemort hadn’t made any of
his yearly appearances and while this worried Harry he was also glad that it
hadn’t happened. He was able to concentrate on his school work, much to Ron’s
dismay and Hermione happiness and was receiving much better grades than in
previous years. It had surprised his professors that he had put so much effort
and dedication into his school work but they were pleased about it. Well,
except for Snape who seemed to take Harry’s vast improvement in potions as a
personal slight to him. But whatever, it wasn’t Harry’s fault that Snape hated
his dad so much. With a mental shrug he walked through the door into the
transfiguration classroom.
The rest of the day passed by in an almost lazy fashion with the classes
seeming to be longer than normal and the students grousing about having to
return to the daily routine of school. Harry wasn’t chagrined like the rest of
his fellow classmates as the classes let him think as little as possible about
things he didn’t want to think about. They kept his mind off of his thoughts of
Sirius, the Dursley’s and, if only slightly, the threat of Voldemort and his
existence. That was enough for Harry to throw himself into the work
enthusiastically.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The days of January slipped by in an almost lazy way of chilly days and
chillier nights. It snowed a few times, tiny crystals of ice falling from a
dull grey sky. But the snow was so scarce that it gave time for the Slytherin
team and the Ravenclaw team to practice for their upcoming match on the
fifteenth of that month. Even through the cold bite of winter winds and the icy
sting of the air itself each team prepared fiercely for their match. Harry had
had very little time to talk to Draco over the days as they were each busy with
their own agendas.
Now it was the day before the match and dinner had just ended and the students
were slowly standing and leaving the Great Hall. Harry was standing up with Ron
and Hermione and walking from the Great Hall. Harry glanced at his two friends
out of the corner of his eyes and then flicked his eyes briefly to the dungeon.
He had gotten a note from Draco asking him to come down after dinner and he was
eager to talk to the blonde again. Who would have ever thought I’d be eager to
talk to Draco Malfoy? Harry thought barely suppressing the urge to snort.
Stopping abruptly, his friends, who didn’t notice at first, walked a few more
steps before they did. Turning around they looked back at him curiously.
“Harry?” Hermione asked brow furrowed in confusion.
“I’m going to take a walk around the lake before curfew. I need to clear my
head a bit,” he replied.
“Are you sure Harry? Have you finished you homework yet?” Hermione demanded
hands on her hips.
“Yes Hermione I’m sure I want to take a walk around the lake,” Harry said
sarcastically, easily ignoring Hermione’s glare. “As for my homework some of it
is done, the rest I’ll finish later.” He continued with a small one shoulder
shrug.
“Alright mate, see you later!” Ron said and Harry nodded before turning and
walking away. Hermione stared after him for a bit before Ron tugged on her
hand. “Come on Hermione lets get back to the Tower,” Ron said lightly pulling
her along.
“Yes Ron because you have homework you need to do also,” Hermione said,
immediately changing modes. Ron groaned loudly and began whining as they made
their way to Gryffindor Tower.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Harry had ducked into an alcove as soon as he was out of sight of his friends.
As he waited for the hall to clear he set his bag down and pulled out his
invisibility cloak and the Marauders Map. He had gotten them earlier after
receiving the note. When the sound of the many students faded into echoes he
opened the map and activated it. Looking at the way he needed to go and his
destination he figured by the time he’d crept down there the few Slytherins in
the hall will be gone.
Pulling his bag over his shoulder and then pulling on the cloak he made his way
out of the alcove and started his path for the dungeons, occasionally glancing
at the map. By the time he’d reached the dungeons the few straggling Slytherins
had gone and he made his way to Draco’s room wondering not for the first time
how and why the Slytherin had his own room when the other prefects didn’t.
Draco had told him when he asked that when his father was on the Board of
Governors and he’d gotten prefect Lucius had bribed them basically to get his
own private room. Harry had just shaken his head, muttered something along the
lines of “spoiled blonde prat” and changed the subject.
Harry finally reached Draco’s room, pulled off his cloak and stuffed both it
and the map back into the bag and knocked out a pattern that let Draco know it
was him. The door opened and Harry slipped through quickly, shutting it behind
him. looking up he saw Draco was in the chair sitting sideways and walked over
to the couch, dropped his bag and sprawled himself on the couch on his side.
“Yes, just make yourself at home,” Draco mock sneered, sarcasm dripping from
his words. Harry rolled his eyes at the blonde and smirked.
“I am,” he said simply and stretched cheekily for good measure, ignoring the
snort from his friend. “Ready for your game against Ravenclaw tomorrow?” Harry
asked.
“Yes of course I’m ready,” Draco said arrogantly as if what Harry had asked was
obvious and stupid, rolling his eyes.
“Confident aren’t you, you arrogant git?” It was more of a statement than a
question that held much sarcasm and amusement.
“Yes I’m confident because Slytherin WILL win.” Draco stated looking at the
black haired teen thoughtfully. “You know something’s been bothering me for a
while now. That match back in November with Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. How the
hell did you lose that? You’re a better seeker than Chang, as reluctant as I am
to admit and you should have won. What happened?” Draco asked raising a finely
sculpted eyebrow in question.
Harry sighed lightly as he closed his eyes. “The week leading up to the game I
had been having…nightmares constantly. I hadn’t been sleeping well and with the
nightmares I… I was cutting also. So when the day of the game came I was
exhausted and just too tired to care about beating Ravenclaw in a Quidditch
match and only played half-heartedly but I doubt anyone noticed,” Harry
explained in an indifferent tone of voice, eyes still closed.
“Then why did you storm off the pitch afterwards? Everyone assumed you were
upset about the loss.” Draco asked realizing now that he hadn’t noticed,
really, that the other teen had been playing half-heartedly. He’d noticed he
wasn’t playing the same he just didn’t realize what was different about how he
had been flying.
“After hopping off my broom I left the pitch because I wanted to shower and
rest. I was beyond exhausted and normally when I’m like that I don’t dream and
I was looking forward to a nightmare-less sleep,” Harry replied opening his
eyes slowly and moving his gaze to the fire.
Draco looked at Harry, understanding in his eyes. He knew what it was like to
have nightmares interrupting your sleep. He had the Dreamless Sleep potion on
most nights but with his godfather catching on to what he was doing he was now
monitored on it and Severus had also banned his use of his private store of
ingredients. Draco had to wait for Severus to give him more potions and that
infuriated and embarrassed him to no end.
“What are your nightmares about?” he questioned in a soft, subdued tone, eyes
trained of the black haired teen.
Harry was silent for awhile gazing steadily into the dancing flames of the
crackling fire. Draco wasn’t sure he was going to answer when the silence
stretched on. Harry was deciding the best way to say what he wanted to and
finally in a low, soft voice he spoke. “Someone I knew who was…close to me died
and I relive their final moment in my dreams. There were also others of,” he
stopped abruptly, cleared his suddenly tight throat and looked the blonde
square in the eyes. He wanted to say this, he wanted Draco to know that his
life wasn’t as perfect as many thought. He didn’t know why this suddenly seemed
important to him but steeling himself with a determined glint to his eyes he
continued. “There were also others of my cousin beating me up and my uncle
abusing me. my relatives don’t like magic, you see, and anything to do with it
so they don’t particularly like me either,” Harry said starting to babble a
bit, adverting his eyes back to the fire before looking at the blonde again,
defiance in his gaze.
Draco was looking at him with a shocked look on his face. He hadn’t actually
expected that coming out of Harry’s mouth. He knew the other was cutting for a
reason but abuse wasn’t what he thought would be a reason. He had thought Harry
was treated like a prince at his relatives, pampered and waited on for being
the Boy-Who-Lived.
Seeing the shocked look on his face Harry said, “It’s true. No one knows the
extent of it, I don’t think.”
“Not even Weasley and Granger or Dumbledore? They don’t know?” Came the
incredulous response.
“No. they knew about the fact that the Dursley’s make me do all the housework
and that they basically starve me but they don’t know about the other stuff and
its better that way. If I can survive through a summer of that then there’s no
point telling them about it.” Harry replied with a shrug.
Draco looked at Harry intensely, eyes thoughtful. Something in him was urging
him to tell Harry about his home life, something that was pressing on him to
speak. He didn’t know what it was that was urging him to talk but face slipping
into an impassive mask he said, “My mother basically ignores me, frigid bitch
that one and my father…he well,” he was uncharacteristically nervous and took a
deep breathe to steel himself and ploughed on. “He tended to like to beat me
for things, mostly stuff that wasn’t my fault mind. So, I can understand the
nightmares about being beaten even if I can’t understand the one about losing
someone close to me. I have nightmares of Lucius and when he’s beaten me.
Bastard.” He said muttering the last part with a bitter tone.
Harry propped himself up with his head in his palm and his elbow digging into
the cushion and stared at the blonde opened mouth with incredulity, eyes wide.
He looked at the blonde as if he’d never seen him before; trying to process
what was told to him. Sitting up fully, slowly, he got a thoughtful look on his
face. “I always knew your dad was an asshole but I didn’t expect him of abusing
you.” Harry said evenly.
Draco’s face remained impassive but his eyes showed his gratitude and Harry
knew it was for not pitying him. Draco didn’t like pity and neither did he.
They both knew this and didn’t pity the other.
“Yes, well I praised my father until he started abusing me. He said it was for
discipline but I know it wasn’t.” Draco said with an indifferent shrug. They
were silent for a moment as they stared into the fire. Harry looked at his
watch and stood up.
“I should go its getting close to curfew now.” Harry said as he grabbed up his
bag and adjusted it onto his shoulder.
“Alright Harry. Oh, by the way what excuse did you use with Granger and
Weasley?” Draco asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Told them I was going to the lake for some time to clear my head and that I’d
be back by curfew.” Harry replied with a shrug. Draco nodded and Harry nodded
back before stepping out the door. He walked a ways before shrugging on his
invisibility cloak and making his way to the Tower. He took the time to think
about what he’d learned about Draco that night as he lazily strolled back. It
would be hard to believe the blond if he hadn’t seen him when he hadn’t put up
his glamour. He had seen the scar down the blonde’s bicep when Draco had been
wearing a sleeveless shirt once. He had asked about it thinking Draco had done
it himself but all he got was an “I don’t want to talk about” and a look that
meant to drop it. He had but wondered ever since what the scar was from. Draco
wasn’t really ashamed of his self-mutilation scars having shown Harry them
before so this one had left him curious. Now he had an idea of where it might
have come from and the thought that Lucius had left that scar on his own son
was both sickening and saddening.
He reached the corridor before the portrait and pulled off his cloak, stuffing
it back in his bag and proceeding to the portrait where he said the password
and walked in. Ron and Hermione and a few others were still in the common room,
sitting around and doing various activities.
“Hey mate,” Ron called.
“Harry your back! Are you feeling better?” Hermione asked having looked up and
seen him.
Harry barely resisted rolling his eyes and nodded his head instead. “Yeah the
walk around the lake cleared my thoughts up. I’m going to head up to bed early
though, night Hermione, Ron.” He said as walked on to the staircase leading to
the boy’s dorm and walked up them.
Hermione looked at the stairs with a calculating look on her face and then
turned to the red head beside her, who was playing chess with Neville. “Do you
think something is going on with Harry, Ron?” she asked.
Ron looked up at his girlfriend and rolled his eyes at her. “Mione, you worry
too much! He’s probably still hung up about Sir-Snuffles and just wants to be
alone. If he wants to talk to us he will, stop worrying so much. You saw what
happened last time, just give him time,” Ron exclaimed. Hermione looked back to
the staircase and sighed. Maybe she was worrying about Harry too much and
should just let him be. With another heavy sigh she went back to her homework,
deciding to, for once, give Harry the benefit of the doubt and let him be.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The match had been going on for an hour now and the score was 50 to 80 in
Slytherins favor. Harry was watching from the Gryffindor stands ignoring Ron’s
slurs at the Slytherins and watching the game though his eyes strayed from
Draco up in the air to the pitch itself and looking for the golden ball. The
game had been fierce and fast between the two teams and the Slytherins were
brutal in their executions of their moves. Just like Harry knew they would be.
“….Slytherin in possession of the quaffle, Pucey passes to Nott, Nott to
Pritchard and Pritchard soars toward the goal post. OH! Pritchard narrowly
misses a bludger and…Score! Slytherin 90 and Ravenclaw 50. Those slimy
Slytherins-”
“Finnigan! Don’t make me drag you off of there,” McGonagall warned as she
glared at Seamus Finnigan the new announcer.
“Sorry professor,” was heard muttered. “Slytherin in possession again, Nott
passes to Pucey and – the quaffle is intercepted by Ravenclaw chaser Roger
Davies who passes to Chambers who passes to Bradley and Bradley goes to the
goal and OH! Stopped by Slytherin keeper Baddock.”
Draco was up in the air shifting his gaze from his search of the snitch to the
other seeker, Cho Chang and back. He was vaguely listening to the commentary
going on as he searched. He was about to drift to the other side of the pitch
when he caught a glint of gold out of the corner of his eye. Turning sharply he
saw the snitch at the ground near the Hufflepuff stands and took off after it.
Chang was by the Slytherin stands looking and further away then him and he had
the advantage of distance. He vaguely heard Finnigan announce his sighting of
the snitch as he sped toward it, ducking under a Ravenclaw chaser, dodging a
bludger and side-swiping another chaser as he sped toward the gold glinting
ball. The ball fluttered where it floated for a moment before zipping of to the
right. Draco tailed in, barely noticing Chang out of his periphery as he sped
after the snitch, twisting and turning and diving for it. Clutching the handle
of the broom in one hand tightly he reached out with his left as he swerved a
flyer. He inched slowly closer to the ball catching the other seeker about a
half a foot back from him and leaned forward flat against the broom as, urging
it forward faster. Suddenly, the next thing he knew the gold ball was clutched
in his hand, golden wings flapping frantically for release and he was sporting
a big smirk on his face as he turned his broom and looked at Chang.
“And Slytherin wins 240 to 90!” Came the half-hearted announcement from Seamus.
The pitch was racked in cheers from the Slytherins and boo’s from the majority
of the other three houses. Harry looked at Draco as the blonde flew a few laps
around the pitch and smirked to himself. Draco was such a dramatic show-off
sometimes. The stands slowly began to clear as people began to vacate the pitch
and return to their common rooms. Harry was walking down from the stands and
looked back briefly.
“Guys go ahead without me I have to talk to Dumbledore about something,” Harry
said casually.
“We can go with you if you want.” Ron said as Hermione said, “Is this about V-
Voldemort?” Harry just stopped himself from rolling his eyes.
“No guys it has nothing to do with that. I just had to ask him something,”
Harry said barely able to keep the exasperation from his voice.
“Okay mate, we’ll meet you back at the common room.” Ron said and he and
Hermione walked off. Harry circled back and made his way to the Slytherin
locker room and waited off to the side out of sight. He saw as the players all
walk into the locker room and slumped against the wall as he waited. After
about ten minutes he saw all of them but Draco walk out and waited for them to
walk off before strolling into the locker room.
Draco was standing in a pair of black trousers, no shirt with his back to
Harry. Harry stopped at the sight for a moment before shaking his head and
leaning against a set of lockers, arms crossed. “Arrogant prat aren’t you? Nice
win by the way,” Harry said nonchalantly.
Draco jerked a bit before turning to look at Harry and smirking. “I know I’m
good, that’s not arrogance but fact. And thanks I thought it was nice too. What
are you doing in here anyway?” Draco asked
“Oh nothing,” Harry said finding it a bit hard for some reason to keep his eyes
off of Draco’s exposed torso. “Just thought I’d remind you not to get too
cocky. You may have beaten Ravenclaw but Gryffindor will trounce you when we
play at the end of the year.” Harry stated with a smirk, keeping his eyes on
Draco’s face.
“Please,” Draco scoffed. “Your delusions are pathetic. Gryffindor can’t always
win and this year I’ll prove it.” Draco said as he pulled a grey jumper on.
Harry was dually glad and felt a twinge of something that he didn’t even want
to think about. Draco stood with his feet apart and arms cross over his chest,
head tilted haughtily as he stared at Harry, smirk firmly in place.
“I think you, you blonde nuisance, are the one with delusions. You have never
won against me and you never will,” Harry said arrogantly taking the same
stance as Draco.
“Well you pathetic Gryffindor scum,” Draco spat but the sparkle in his eyes
betrayed his mirth of the situation. “You just better be prepared for the game
and to lose because this year, I’m going to win!”
“Keeping dreaming Malfoy,” Harry drawled.
“You too Potter,” Draco drawled back. They looked at each before bursting out
into laughter.
“I’m going to go before Ron and Hermione send a search party for me or
something,” Harry said once he recovered from his laughter and rolled his eyes.
“Yeah I should too their having a victory party tonight and I should be there,”
Draco said with a long suffering sigh.
“Have fun Draco,” Harry called over his shoulder as he left the locker room,
having already forgotten seeing Draco with his shirt off and made his way back
to the common room thinking up excuses for what he talked about with
Dumbledore.
***** Bloody Valentine, The Dance and Chos renewed interest *****

Author's notes: Look inside first chapter
===============================================================================
Chapter 11: Bloody Valentine, The Dance and Cho’s renewed interest
The rest of January went by quickly. Harry and Draco talked when they could
without trying to draw too much attention. Harry had completely forgotten the
incident in the locker room with Draco and things were just as they had been
between them since Christmas. Classes were as hard as ever as the professors
worked them endlessly, giving them tons of homework. Everything seemed to be
going well so far, maybe a bit to well.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Harry awoke the morning of February first lazily and lay back in his
comfortable four poster bed. He kept his eyes closed as he lay still for a
moment before stretching slowly, languidly in an almost cat-like fashion with a
small throaty groan. Finally opening his eyes; tanned lids rising to reveal
sleepy green eyes, Harry stared at the mahogany canopy of his bed and sighed
heavily. It was the second month of term and so far everything seemed to be
going fine. Very minor scar action, no Voldemort appearances nothing really bad
happening so far. Maybe I can get through this year with little to no
incidents, Harry thought only half joking and only half hopeful. Stretching a
bit once more and scratching at his bare stomach lightly Harry arose from the
bed.
It was still a bit early and the other boys were still asleep, so grabbing
everything he needed for his morning shower he lazily walked from the room. By
the time he was almost done his shower, just finishing rinsing, the other four
boys stumbled in muttering groggy good mornings to Harry who was wrapping a
towel around his waist. Nodding and mumbling back he quickly left to finish
getting ready. Soon all the boys were fully awake and dressed and heading down
to the common room where they met up with Hermione exchanging morning greetings
before they left to make their ways to the Great Hall.
As Harry walked along with Ron and Hermione on his left he got hit with a
feeling of something like apprehension and dread. He faltered in his step
imperceptibly at the heavy feeling but continued to walk. The feeling seemed to
deepen with every step he took towards the Great Hall. As they neared the door
of the Great Hall he could feel his heart beating faster, feel and hear the
thrum of it in his ears as they walked through and sat in their seats; Harry on
one side facing the Slytherin table and Ron and Hermione on the other side
facing Harry.
“Harry are you alright you look a bit flushed?” Hermione inquired as they began
to pile food onto their plates.
“Yes Hermione I’m fine,” Harry answered with a small smile as he nibbled on his
toast. “I haven’t had the chance to really read those spell books you and Remus
got me and I’m a bit excited about trying out some of those spells.” He
elaborated, the lie falling easily from his lips. It worked as he thought it
would and Hermione’s eyes lit up at the mention of books.
“I looked into it briefly before I sent it to you and there are some very
interesting hexes in there. I even bought a copy for myself,” Hermione babbled
in her excitement.
“Ron,” Harry cut in, not really wanting to hear Hermione’s ‘teacher-babble’ at
this moment. “Did you finish the Charms essay due on Thursday?”
Hermione turned and looked at Ron with a glare and a, “Did you Ronald? Well?”
when he didn’t answer immediately. Ron looked at Hermione with wide eyes before
looking at Harry with a pleading expression.
“Um, well no not yet but Hermione! It’s not due for another three days,” he
whined as Hermione glared harder and started in on a rant about N.E.W.T.s, and
applying yourself to your education. “Thanks a lot mate,” Ron muttered to Harry
with a tiny glare as Hermione went on. Harry shrugged half apologetically and
was about to go back to thinking about the feelings he felt that morning when
owl post arrived.
Harry looked up not really expecting anything when he saw a large black eagle
owl flying his way with a big red bow with black ribbon. The owl dropped the
box into the now empty spot in front of Harry who had pushed his plate away.
The box landed neatly on the table and Harry stared at it as many around the
Hall did.
“Harry maybe you sho–” but whatever Hermione was about to say was cut off as
the bow at the top of the box slowly undid itself, the ribbons on each side
falling softly to the table. Harry stood from his seat and backed up a few
steps, the others surrounding him doing the same as the lid to the box opened
and a metallic-coppery smell filled the air. Harry knew that scent only to well
and paled drastically as the sides fell away to reveal a red and bloody human
heart on a silver plate.
There were gasps and screams around the hall as many caught sight of it. Those
still surrounding it at the table scrambled quickly away. Harry heard retching
but continued to stare wide eyed at the human heart. He didn’t even noticing
the other owl swooping in until the howler was resting beside the heart. And
before he could try to do anything or get it out of the Hall the howler
unfolded itself and the silence was broken by the cold, high sibilant voice
that was Lord Voldemort.
I KNOW THIS IS EARLY POTTER BUT I THOUGHT I WOULD SEND YOU AN EARLY VALENTINE’S
GIFT, RATHER APPROPRIATE IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF. THE HEART CAME FROM A MUDBLOOD
WITH RED HAIR AND GREEN EYES…SORT OF LIKE YOU MOTHER REALLY! (There was a low
hissing laugh that followed that statement) HAPPY EARLY VALENTINE’S DAY POTTER,
UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN…AND HERE’S AN EXTRA LITTLE GIFT FOR YOU!
And then the Hall was filled with the high pitched screams of a woman and her
pleading that lasted about ten seconds before the howler destroyed itself. The
hall was silent, not a sound made as all stared at the Gryffindor table. There
were many pale faces around the Hall, some even a bit green. Harry didn’t see
any of it as words kept running through his head – mudblood, red hair and green
eyes, like your mother – he kept hearing that and the screams echoing in his
mind. Then there was shift in the air, a crackle of magic that rippled out from
one source. Harry. It was small at first until the air began to get heavier and
thicker with the magic being exuded, the air seeming to hum faintly.
“Harry?” the voice was so far away it seemed and sounded muffled but Harry
wasn’t eve paying attention to that – just like you mother – no not paying
attention to those calling his name at all. He felt something building up in
him pushing against something else that seemed to be blocking it path. He felt
the pressure of this something raging at being blocked, spiraling and twisting
wildly within him. He felt pressure at his temples, behind his eyes and from
somewhere within him – like your mother – that he knew from classes was his
magical core. His body began to ache all over; a dull throb in his limbs,
hands, feet, chest, all over. Like you mother. And then the world spun and
everything went black.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
He came to consciousness slowly like he was swimming through syrup or some
other thick substance. His head pounded mercilessly and he decided to keep his
eyes shut. Anyway his eyes hurt too along with a dull pain throughout his whole
body. Eyes closed he listened around for any sound and heard muffled noises.
Voices, perhaps? He couldn’t tell as his head felt like someone was taking a
blunt object to it and his ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton.
Deciding the muffled noises were unimportant as he couldn’t understand them he
turned his mind to why he felt like he did.
At first he couldn’t remember why and he furrowed his brow which hurt and he
stopped doing it before digging deeper for an answer. Thinking hard he
remembered getting up and ready for the day, heading to the Great Hall, talking
to Hermione and then owl post came. He struggled to remember what happened next
but was having a hard time grasping the events. Concentrating harder the events
began to form slowly, excruciatingly so. The owl post came and he received a
red box with black ribbon and bow and then…the box opened and…gasping silently
the whole thing came back to him.
A red and bloody heart…
Human heart.
A howler and Voldemort’s voice...
Mudblood...red hair...green eyes...like your mother...
He cried out and sat up quickly and then groaned at the pain that shot through
his head and body.
“Take it easy Mr. Potter!” came the sharp tone of Madam Pomfrey. “Here,” she
continued handing him a vial that he looked at blankly with wide eyes still
lost in memories. Like you mother. “Well drink it Mr. Potter you no doubt have
a terrible headache.” Pomfrey said a considerably softer tone to her voice.
Harry mechanically drank the potion not even tasting it as it went down. Like
you mother. That voice kept whispering, slithering through his mind. He vaguely
noticed Pomfrey hand him two more vials that he drank just as mechanically. He
felt the pain in his head and body slowly fade and he pushed that voice and
those words to the back of his mind. Somewhat calmer Harry finally looked
around him. Besides Pomfrey who was standing beside him running her wand over
him Dumbledore was also in the room sitting in a comfy arm chair.
“It’s good to see you finally awake Harry,” Dumbledore said with a small smile,
eyes less twinkle-y than usual. Beside Harry Pomfrey ‘hmm-ed’ as she finished
her examination.
“From what I can see you’re fine Mr. Potter. I think the shock of the situation
interacted with your magic, as extreme emotions tend to do and you blacked out
from the mix of emotions and you magic running wild. But your fine now as far
as I can tell,” Pomfrey stated. Harry looked at Dumbledore before looking to
Pomfrey, hands rubbing together palm to palm.
“How long have I been out?” he asked, voice just loud enough to hear. He ran
his hand up and down his clothed arm, scratching his shoulder absent-mindedly.
“You’ve been out,” Pomfrey paused with a thoughtful look. “About three hours
now.” Harry nodded slowly not knowing what to really say to that. He was
focusing most of his energy on keeping that voice out of his mind.
“When can I get out here?” he asked voice still low and eyes fixed on the white
bed sheet.
“Just to make sure your fine I want you to stay for a little bit more. If your
fine and haven’t gotten a headache or any other pain by dinner time then you
can go to the Great Hall.” Pomfrey said with a firm tone. Harry sighed, not
really wanting to stay here any longer.
“It’s just to make sure there are no other problems Harry, it won’t be so bad.”
Dumbledore said, twinkle fully returned at the sour look on Harry’s face. Harry
just nodded his head silently. “Harry how do you fe-” Dumbledore began before
being cut off.
“I think I’m going to have a lie down, sir,” the tone was polite if a bit cool
as Harry moved to get under the sheets of the bed, pulling them up to his
shoulders and turning on his side, back to Dumbledore. A look of mild
irritation flashed across the old face before the old man sighed.
“Alright Harry but if you want to talk my door is always open,” Dumbledore said
as he rose from the armchair, vanishing it and walking slowly from the
infirmary, mind slightly trouble. Harry lay on the bed as Pomfrey walked away
to her office with an order to call her if needed. He shut his eyes tightly
trying to block out everything. He wished all this was a horrible nightmare
that wasn’t real, that never happened. Like you mother. He didn’t realize he
was even crying until a small almost inaudible sob escaped from his throat. He
should’ve known things were going too easy for it to continue without problems.
He was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived after all and nothing was ever easy for
him. Like you mother. He cried softly, tears streaming down his face and nose
and onto his pillow. Eyes closed the image of the bloody heart taunted him
mercilessly as if painted to the back of his eyes lids. He gasped softly as he
choked on some tears and shook his head as much as possible trying to get rid
of the image. Like quicksand the image faded only to be replaced with a horrid
picture of a woman with red hair and green eyes with a gaping hole in her chest
where a heart should be. Like your mother. He cried until he drifted off to
sleep dreams of bloody hearts and red haired, green eyed women haunting his
sleep.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Harry didn’t go to the Great Hall that night and had dinner in the infirmary
with his friends, who had come by before to see if he was going. It was a
strained affair between the three as Hermione attempted to get Harry to talk
about what happened and how he was feeling and he blatantly stopped all her
attempts with either flat declinations or cold looks. Ron had also tried,
rather awkwardly, to get Harry to talk with the same results. After their
fourth attempt with no success they gave up and the three ate in tensed
silence.
They had left for the Tower after that and once back there Harry had gone up to
the dorm where he now was sitting. The curtains were shut, locked and silenced
for privacy as he sat on his bed Indian style with his journal, pen and
butterfly knife with him. He was staring at the knife silently, eyes dull.
Picking up the knife he pulled of the shirt he was wearing and, with wand in
other hand murmured something under his breath. The glamour disappeared and the
scars that adorned his upper body both self-inflicted and not became visible.
Putting his wand down he clutched the knife tighter in his hand and looked at
his arms. Closing his eyes he pressed cold steel to the warm flesh of his
bicep, held it there for a moment feeling the pressure before dragging the
blade sideways across his bicep. It wasn’t a deep cut, no he still had enough
of his bearings not to cut too deeply, but the skin broke and blood bloomed
over the cut before dripping down his arm and the cold ache receded a bit.
Moving the blade down a bit from the first cut in an almost mechanical way he
laid steel to bloody flesh and made another cut. The ache faded a bit more.
Switching hands he repeated the actions feeling the ache fading some more.
Finally setting the knife down on the bed he let the cuts bleed, red crimson
liquid flowing freely down his arms. He sat and stared straight ahead, dull
eyes seeing nothing. He sat that way for a few minutes before grabbing his wand
and cleaning the blood up. The blood flow had stopped and he didn’t bother
putting a shirt back on debating whether to put the glamour back on and decided
in the end to put it back on. Precaution was best, he thought and even his
thoughts sounded dry and dull. Flipping the knife back closed he put it to the
side. Picking up his journal and a pen he opened to a blank page.
Feb. 1, 1997
Today started out fine, I woke up and felt good everything seemed to be going
so well. But I’m Harry fucking Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and nothing can ever
go well in my life, right? Right. So I head to the Great Hall with my friends
and I start getting this feeling of like impending doom or some morbid shit
like that. It was like dread and apprehension that only seemed to get worse the
closer we got to the Great Hall. That should have been my fucking clue right
there that whatever was wrong or going to go wrong was happening there.
Breakfast started out okay though the feeling stayed with me.
Then owl post came and I got a wonderful gift (notice my sarcasm). Well what
happened next was just, horrible and traumatizing to say the least. Voldemort,
fucking bastard that he is, sent me an early valentine’s gift. A human heart.
Yes, a bloody human heart. As if that wasn’t enough the bastard sent a howler
also. I don’t remember the whole thing but there is a part of it I do remember.
He’d said: The heart came from a mudblood (his words) with red hair and green
eyes. Sort of like your mother. That stung me badly. I felt that murderous rage
I had for Him after Sirius die resurface with a vengeance. I don’t even really
remember much of what happened, just that I felt my magic trying to lash out
and something like a block or something on my magic. Maybe I’ll check into
that, who knows? Anyway, I blacked out after that and woke in the infirmary.
Truth is told I never expected Voldemort to do something like that. But the man
wants me dead after all and if there is one thing I know about the bastard he’d
want me broken first. A pride thing on his part I think. Like your mother. It
was said in that same voice, another statement that was stuck in my head. Kill
the spare… Like your mother. It was all in the same high cold hissing voice.
Kill the spare.
Like your mother.
Another statement for me to carry with me, in my head always. They say bad
things come in pairs or so I’ve heard but with me I’d say to double that. I AM
Harry Potter after all.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The next nine days passed and in the beginning the stares and whispers weren’t
as easy to ignore as he had been able to do before. It seemed everyone was
looking at him and some of the stares were looks that said ‘is he going to blow
up’ and others were looks of pity that he couldn’t stand or the smirks some of
the Slytherins gave him. Draco played his role in a more subdued way than in
previous years but sent a note to Harry letting him know he didn’t mean any of
it. The blonde stayed away from saying anything too harsh which Harry was
thankful for.
Slowly over the last few days of the week things eased up a bit and the staring
and whispering wasn’t as oppressive as the first two days was. On the ninth
day, the following Monday, Dumbledore made the announcement of a Valentine’s
dance on the fourteenth for fifth through seventh years. Harry wasn’t
particularly excited about it but refrained from saying anything about what he
thought.
The days leading up to the dance were filled with shopping for dress robes if
needed and getting dates for the dance. Harry had made a promise to himself at
the announcement of the dance that he wasn’t going to ask anyone and was going
alone, though he would have preferred to not go at all. Hermione and Ron
persisted that he asks someone but he had firmly refused. The few girls who had
gotten the courage to ask him he had politely turned down. While he did get new
dress robes he steadily stood by his choice to go alone. He knew Draco was
going with sixth year Slytherin Tracey Davis himself as the blonde had said
when they had last talked. Something about Malfoy’s and not showing up alone at
social gatherings, Harry had really just tuned the blonde out.
As the day of the dance approached Harry felt more miserable by the second
about the whole event. He was still feeling pretty bad from the human heart
incident and the dance wasn’t lightening his spirits any. But what could go
wrong at the dance that hadn’t already gone wrong with this month? He was sure
that at least nothing would go wrong, or at least he hoped.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The day of the dance was here and Harry had just walked into the Great Hall
with Ron and Hermione and some other Gryffindors. The Hall had been decorated
with red and white and pink streamers everywhere. Red and pink cut out hearts
with white lace frills were floating among the candles near the enchanted
ceiling. Pink fairy lights flitted around the hall darting among candles,
hearts and people. Hermione was saying how nice the Hall turned out. Harry
thought it looked a little nauseating himself but didn’t say anything as he
shared an eye roll with Ron. Things were still a bit rocky among the three of
them but they had settled their differences enough to be around each other and
it not being uncomfortable.
Situated around the Hall instead of the house tables were small round tables
that sat six people. The group of Gryffindors walked toward a table taking a
seat. Neville, who was wearing sable colored robes pulled out the seat for his
date, Ginny, who was wearing dark red robes with black trim. Next to Ginny sat
Hermione who was wearing azure blue robes whose chair was pulled out by Ron who
was wearing rust red colored robes. Harry sat between Ron and Neville, Ron on
his right and Neville his left in emerald green robes with gold trim. He was
the only one without a date at the table since he had come alone.
The Hall wasn’t completely filled yet and slowly students began trickling in.
As the others talked Harry let his eyes drift over the Hall, looking at the
students. The majority of fifth through seventh year Gryffindors was there
already, as was the Ravenclaws and most of the Hufflepuffs. Only a few of the
Slytherins were there and those students not already there were trickling in
through the door. He scanned the hall and sighed, he really would prefer not to
be there. The month started out bad as it is and this dance really wasn’t
improving his mood.
“And here comes Malfoy flaunting in late,” Harry heard Ron mutter and looked
towards the door. “Bloody git,” Ron added as they table turned to the doors.
Draco Malfoy stood just inside them in grey silk robes that shined silver the
light, customary haughty smirk in place. His chin length hair fell softly
around his face, a few strands drifting into stormy grey eyes. On his arm was
Tracey Davis whose chestnut brown shoulder blade length hair fell in beautiful
spiral curls. She was wearing pale powder blue silk robes with darker blue trim
that matched her pale crystal blue eyes that had darker blue flecks in it. They
walked into the Hall and over to a table where Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle
were seated.
“He’s got a flair for the dramatic almost worse than Snape,” Ginny commented as
she turned back to the table. Harry looked on a little longer absentmindedly
thinking Draco’s hair looked nicer down then gelled back before focusing his
mind back to his table. Once everyone was in the Hall Dumbledore stood and gave
a small speech about this and that, Harry wasn’t really paying attention and
then clapped his hand as the food for the meal appeared. The six ate and
chatted as soft music played in the background. It would have been a nice
setting if Harry hadn’t been so moody about not wanting to be there. As the
meal came to an end and people began to get up to dance Harry felt himself
relaxing a bit.
He was sitting at the table lounged back in his chair, arms crossed over his
chest staring unfocusedly over the dance floor. He was absentmindedly bobbing
his head to the music. He was so focused on not focusing on anything that he
didn’t here the person calling him until they tapped his shoulder. Turning
around he came face to face with Hannah Abbot who was smiling at him shyly.
Inwardly he groaned having a vague idea what this was about.
“Yes Hannah?” he asked politely, masking the annoyance and nervousness he felt.
“I was just wondering if you wanted to maybe dance with me Harry?” she asked,
biting a bit on her bottom lip. Harry repressed a sigh. He didn’t really want
to dance, memories of the Yule Dance fourth year springing to his head. He’d
gotten marginally better since then but couldn’t really do the whole ‘formal
dancing’ like the wizarding world seemed to be partial too.
“Sorry Hannah but I think I’m just going to sit and watch for bit,” Harry
replied with an apologetic grin. Hannah pouted and sighed.
“Are you sure?” she asked and he nodded his head. “Alright, maybe later then?”
“Maybe,” Harry replied with a shrug and watched the blonde haired girl smile
and walk off. Harry sighed and just held himself from rolling his eyes. This
was one of the reasons he hadn’t wanted to come to the dance. Standing from the
table he walked to the table along the opposite wall that had snacks and drinks
and got him self something to drink before going back to his seat.
Over the next half hour five girls from all houses except Slytherin came to ask
him to dance and he turned each one down as politely as possible. He was
developing a headache, a small pain behind his eyes as the night wore on and
was desperate to leave. He had talked to his friends throughout the night when
they weren’t dancing and Hermione was all huffy with him for not dancing with
any of the girls who asked him. He had passed Draco once and traded a few
insults and barbs on his way to and from the snack table but other than that
had mostly stayed at the table.
Deciding he had stayed long enough as the dance was almost over he rose and
started making his way to the door. As he was halfway across the Hall he was
stopped bye someone saying his name behind him. The voice was familiar and he
closed his eyes before opening them, pasting on a smile and turning around. Cho
Chang stood behind him in her sapphire blue robes with a brilliant smile on her
face. He felt the slightest twinge in his gut. Cho was a beautiful girl after
all but he had lost most of his attraction to her after last year. Putting on a
smile he looked at her and said, “Yes Cho?”
“Hey Harry, would you like to dance with me?” Cho asked sweetly with a small
flutter of her black lashes looking at Harry from under them. Harry swallowed a
little, part annoyance at being delayed from leaving and part at the look Cho
was giving him. He paused and thought for a minute about what to do but in the
end decided he really didn’t want to dance.
Shaking his head and pasting on the well practiced apologetic smile he’d
adopted over the night he looked back at the Ravenclaw girl. “No Cho but thank
you, I think I’m just going to go back to the Tower. I’m pretty tired,” Harry
said with a shrug. Cho pouted and stepped closer to Harry laying a hand on his
arm.
“Please? It’s just one dance,” she said looking into Harry’s eyes. He bit his
lip and looked at her, at her slightly protruding lower lip and the cute pout
on her face. He felt arousal curl in his belly because, really, she was a very
beautiful girl.
“Sorry Cho but I’m really not good at dancing,” he stuttered out blushing
faintly. He would much rather not embarrass himself with his poor attempt at
formal dancing, thank you very much!
“If you sure Harry,” she said with a sad look on her face, pout still very much
evident. Harry nodded and she gave him a small smile as he turned and continued
on his course out of the Hall not seeing the look in Cho’s eyes that had
narrowed at his back and held a calculating glint.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Three days after the dance Cho approached Harry again and asked him out on a
date to Hogsmeade. Though he was skeptical about a repeat performance of their
one and only other date back in fifth year, Cho had assured that they wouldn’t
be going to Madam Puddifoot’s again. After a moment of thought he had agreed
thinking no harm could come out of trying.
Now he sat in his room, bed hangings drawn, locked and silenced as he sat with
his back to the headboard. His black leather bound journal and pen lay in front
of him in his lap.
Feb. 17, 1997
Well what is there to really say about what has happened? Cho asked me out for
a date to Hogsmeade this Saturday and I said yes. I’m not as stuck on her as I
was in 4th and 5th year but I still think she’s a pretty girl. I mean who
wouldn’t? I told Ron and Hermione about it and they think it’s nice that I’m
‘finally doing something besides being by myself constantly’ as Hermione had
said. I like being alone a lot though because it gives me time to think about
things I cant talk about with Ron or Hermione. The stuff like I talked about
with Draco in the astronomy tower that night. They would understand where I’m
coming from with my views.
Speaking of Draco I told him about the date and he in true Malfoy fashion asked
me why I was going on a date with her when the last one was ‘a big fucking
mess’ as he had put it. Now that I think of it I’m not actually sure why I’m
doing it. Maybe some futile hope that there’s a chance between us though I’m
not as enthusiastic about going out with her as I would have been last year.
Well anyway, I’m going out with here this Saturday, I wonder how things will go
this time?
***** Suspicions, Wandering thoughts and the Date *****

Author's notes: Check Chapter 1
===============================================================================
AN: This beginning of this chapter is going to take a step back some. Not
anything crucial but for the first half it’s going to go back some since it’s
focused on Severus (and Dumbledore) and a vital part of the story. Sorry for
any confusion there may be!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 12: Suspicions, Wandering thoughts and the Date
 
Severus Snape was sweeping through the halls black robes billowing around him
in his usual style. It was a half hour after dinner and he was on his way to
Dumbledore’s office where the headmaster had called a meeting to explain to him
and McGonagall exactly what had happened that morning. After that morning’s
incident with Potter Dumbledore had informed them that he would answer the
questions they had been asking after dinner.
Severus was very interested to know what was going on. He had seen display’s
before of a person losing control of their magic when emotional or stressed out
but yesterday had been interesting. The power that Potter had showed spoke
volumes of how powerful the boy would be but something seemed off about the
incident. It would seem as nothing more than a burst of emotion that lashed out
in his magic and acted as any normal stressed witches or wizards would. But the
magic had felt strained in a sense and he wasn’t sure why that was. Something
had been off about Potter’s magic, he was sure of it. But what had been off was
beyond him. He had a few ideas but they were skeptical at best. Arriving at the
gargoyle he bit out the password and strolled through and onto the moving
stairs. Once at the top he opened the door and strode into the room.
“Severus,” Dumbledore greeted with a smile to the potions master. Severus
nodded as he took a seat in one of the chairs set in front of the headmaster’s
desk. “Minerva should be along any minute now. Lemon drop?” he asked holding
out a tin of yellow candies.
“No thank you Albus,” he declined with a small shake of his head. They waited
in silence until McGonagall entered the room and took a seat. She, too, turned
down the offer of a lemon drop.
“Alright Albus we’re here. Now explain, please, what happened today,”
McGonagall said, lips pursed, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed.
“Well my dear professors,” Dumbledore began in a calm tone. “After the arrival
of the…item…from Voldemort today its effect on Harry was expected. His magic
lashed out in his highly emotional state. It’s common, as you know, for that to
happen.
“Yes it is Albus but Potter blacking out wasn’t expected. Also,” Severus said
voice calm and even, not giving anything of his thoughts away. “The magic that
could be felt coming off him felt different somehow, almost strained as if it
was forcing itself out of him. Why would that be?”
Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed so minutely that it would have been missed if
Severus wasn’t so trained to watch people’s actions. Dumbledore tilted his head
fractionally to the side as if in thought. “Well Severus, my boy,” he began and
his voice sounded completely calm and normal. “Harry is coming into his magical
maturity and his magic will be trying to level itself. We all knew he would be
powerful one day. Obviously all the strain; Voldemort’s supposed gift and his
magic trying to find the best outlet possible it was all too much for him.”
“That makes sense Albus, especially considering last year’s events and the lost
of his godfather. Poor boy must be under all kinds of stress,” McGonagall
stated with a small shake of her head for her student.
“Yes, I’m sure Potter’s fragile Gryffindor sensibilities have him wrought with
guilt,” Severus sneered, keeping his thoughts to himself. Somehow he was sure
Dumbledore was holding back something, positive of it really. Dumbledore was
hiding something about this whole mess.
McGonagall glared at the black haired man beside her. "The boy has been through
a lot Severus,” she said tersely.
“Yes, he has been but let’s hope no more incidents like this occur. Well if
there are no more questions?” he looked to both who shook there heads silently.
“I think were done for now then. Would either of you like to have tea before
you leave?” they both declined politely before standing and leaving the office.
Severus began to stalk in the direction of the dungeons and his rooms. His mind
was set on the conversation that just took place and what he thought. He was
definitely suspicious of what the headmaster said. While the answers the old
man gave were logical he just had a gnawing feeling that something was missing
from what Dumbledore had said. The old coot was known to leave out bits of
information before so why not now? Maybe a little research was in order.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
It was night, well into it really but he couldn’t sleep. Or more specifically
he didn’t want to sleep. So he took to wandering around an unused part of the
castle, strolling almost casually through the dusty corridors. It was another
one of those nights with no Dreamless Sleep potion and thoughts raging in his
mind. Draco didn’t know whether to appreciate these nights or not anymore. The
corridor was lighted with moonlight that streamed in through the windows that
decorated the hall.
The last two weeks had been hectic to say the least. The starting of the month
had been a decidedly horrible way for anyone to have it start and Draco felt
bad that Harry’s month started out the way it did. He always knew from the
stories his father had told him and others that had been hearsay that the Dark
Lord is harsh and cruel but the ‘gift’ he had sent Harry on the first of
February had, admittedly surprised him. And the Howler was just terrible. As a
Slytherin Draco could see the opportunity for the emotional and mental damage
that it was, as any good Slytherin would. But as Harry’s friend now and knowing
Harry better than he had before he couldn’t help but feel sorry about the
incident that occurred.
But what happened after that was something that still shocked Draco. The feel
of the magic at Hogwarts is always there, never suffocating but always felt.
The heaviness of the magic that rolled off Harry that day, that seemed to
saturate the air in his rage had been overwhelming, intense. Even at the
Slytherin table he had felt it and, as he remembered the brief glance at his
housemates, he knew that they had felt it also. And then Harry had fallen to
the ground, having blacked out. But Draco hadn’t forgotten the magic that had
rolled off of Harry. The other boy was going to be powerful there was no doubt
about that.
Sighing Draco stopped by a window and stared out onto the grounds of Hogwarts.
He had been purposely avoiding thinking about it but with the events of the
first of February having happened the thoughts had invaded his mind. Voldemort,
the Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Whatever you wanted to
call the bastard, it didn’t matter in the scheme of things. He knew that soon,
most likely within the next year if not less that You-Know-Who would be in the
stage of recruiting his followers’ children. And Draco knew that he was pretty
much sure about not wanting to join, having too much knowledge of what being a
Death Eater entailed.
He shuddered involuntarily as he thought about it. In fourth year, or the
summer after it, when he wasn’t busy with things for Voldemort, Lucius had
decided to show Draco some of his memories of the Dark Lord’s first reign and
Death Eater meetings. It was his father’s way, he had suspected, of letting
Draco know that he would be joining Voldemort and what he should expect.
Admittedly, it wasn’t what he was expecting and it hadn’t done anything for him
but put fear in him and started the slow burn of not wanting to join the
madman. The memories were placed in a pensieve and he viewed meetings, raids
and dark revels. Before the age of fifteen he had seen torture, death and rape
and he was sickened by it. Even more sickened that his father seemed to enjoy
all that went on. It may have been second-hand, seeing it through someone
else’s point of view but it didn’t make it any better to see.
Shaking his head quickly, he glared harshly out of the window. He couldn’t
think about that anymore not tonight anyway. He closed his eyes briefly before
opening them again, grey eyes intense. Licking his lips he scowled at nothing
in particular. It was two days until Harry’s date with that Ravenclaw Chang,
and for some reason Draco couldn’t understand he felt mildly annoyed about it.
Ever since Harry had told him about the date he had felt an irrational
irritation about it. Harry was going on a date with Cho Chang. Why should he
feel annoyed by that?
There were a few reasons he knew why he would feel annoyed by this event and
none of them remotely set well with him. One would be that if Harry began
spending more time with Chang he would be spending even less time with him and
this option made Draco seem childish and needy. He wasn’t childish or needy,
thank you very much and that choice was preposterous. But the other choice
wasn’t any better and possibly worse. Draco wasn’t a stranger to attractions to
the same gender. There were a few stints with a couple of girls; Pansy being
the first in fourth year which he found sexually satisfying if nothing else and
a string of girls during the summer after fourth year.
Fifth year through all that had been going on had been eye opening to Draco. He
had begun admiring other males. At first he had chalked it up to anything but
attraction; those good at Quidditch, those most likely to blame things on when
he was in trouble, those most probable to use for blackmail purposes, anything
but sexual attraction. But soon just looking had turned into dreaming, dreams
that had left him sweating, panting and hard and a mix of disgusted with
himself and slightly curious. Of course he had had no such intention to act on
his sudden interest. How could he without being found out and it being reported
back to his father? Merlin knows the man had enough ammunition to beat him for
already.
His chance to find out though had come suddenly and without a proper warning.
It had been after a Quidditch practice that it had happened.
He had stayed longer than his housemates to shower, having reveled in the
chance to be alone and away from everyone. Besides he didn’t want to walk back
to his room sweaty and dirty. He had been standing under the warm spray slowly
stroking his hard cock. He had been taking the time to indulge himself and
figured no one would be coming back down. His hand had been gripped firmly
around his cock and his hand stroking lazily. He had been oblivious to the
world around him and he had stupidly let his guard down. So he had never seen
or heard him enter the locker room. Hadn’t even known he wasn’t alone until a
hand was settled firmly on his hip. He had tensed immediately and spun around
quickly only to come eye to collarbone with someone. When he had looked up he
had looked into the dark blue eyes of Adrian Pucey who was a 7th year
Slytherin. He remembered it as if it had been yesterday that it had happened.
Flashback
Draco was looking up into those dark blue eyes extremely aware of his state of
nudeness and his arousal. Adrian was smirking down at him with a look Draco
wasn’t sure he really wanted to classify in his eyes. Adrian was shirtless
dressed only in black soft wool trouser and black shoes. Uncomfortable with the
situation Draco used the tactic he knew best.
“What do you want Adrian?” he asked as calmly as he could. He shifted
imperceptibly from one foot to the other in his uneasiness.
“I think it’s what you want Draco,” Adrian drawled smoothly reaching pass the
frozen blonde with his free hand to turn the water off. He drew his hand back
after the water was off and settled it on Draco’s other hip.
“What do you mean by that? And remove your hands from me,” Draco said coldly,
glaring at the other boy. The other Slytherin was very attractive and Draco
wasn’t blind and with his newfound, though grudging attraction to the same sex
he had noticed the other boy. And his sudden close proximity wasn’t doing Draco
any good.
Adrian’s hands tightened briefly on the pale hips before caressing slowly up
and down Draco’s sides. “Come now Draco,” Adrian purred as he leaned forward
slowly and licked up Draco’s neck. The blonde tried to pull away and the hands
now once again on Draco’s hips tightened almost painfully. “Your eyes have been
wandering lately and don’t think I haven't noticed that they have wandered over
me more than a few times.” He pulled back and smirked at the blonde.
“What makes you think I would use my precious time to give the likes of you a
spare glance Pucey?” He asked and when he spoke his voice was a tad more
breathy then he would have cared for it to be and his tone not nearly as icy as
he would have liked. He glared at the other boy fiercely hoping to intimidate
him.
Adrian smirked; his glare wasn’t doing anything obviously and the other
Slytherin leaned in again. He pressed soft lips against the blonde’s ear.
“Please Draco I’ve been noticing that you’ve been passing glances towards other
boys. Oh, don’t misunderstand you have been discreet but I watch. You in
particular I’ve watched for little more than a year. You’re a very attractive
boy Draco, gorgeous really.” And then Adrian caught the pale lobe between his
teeth and began to nipple gently.
Draco involuntarily moaned at the feeling before biting down on his bottom lip.
He brought his hands up and tried to push Adrian away but the other was
stronger and bigger than him and grasped his hips tighter in response. “Let me
go this instant Pucey or so help me I’ll hex you from here to Wales and back!”
Draco bit out harshly.
Adrian licked at the shell of Draco’s ear, nipped at it once more and pulled
back to smirk at Draco who had shivered a bit at the action. “Now, now, now
Draco aren’t you interested to know what its like to be touched,” he said in a
low, sultry voice as he stroked his hands up Draco’s sides softly. “Kissed,” he
leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of the pink lips
that were pursed together. “Fondled,” he chuckled throatily as one hand reached
down and ran feather-light over the blonde’s erection and Draco made a
strangled sound in the back of his throat at the action. He leaned in again,
lips pressed to the pale ear and whispered hotly, “And sucked by another guy?”
before nipping at the pale ear again.
Draco trembled minutely under the ministrations of the other boy and half-
heartedly cursed himself for it. He was extremely interested, no matter how
much he had protested in his mind. That low male voice whispering in his ears
with obvious hints of promises of pleasures of a kind he considered forbidden
was making him lose his sensibilities. Pull yourself together! A part of his
brain was screaming at him. He made an effort to pull himself together, to
think. Pulling in a deep breath he shoved harder at Adrian than he had before
and the other stumbled a bit letting go of him before straightening and smiling
lasciviously.
Draco was breath just a bit more heavily and he tried to pull himself together
and look like the Malfoy he was supposed to be. Standing as straight as
possible with his best glare in place he snapped, “Your mad Pucey if you think
I’d let you touch me, WILLINGLY, anymore than your filthy hands have already.”
He was thinking fast trying to figure the best way this little confrontation
could go. He wanted to try this, Merlin, but did he want to. The only problem
was making sure Pucey kept his mouth shut and didn’t mention it because if it
got back to his father – break that line of thought now Draco, he
thoughtbecause he knew it would only lead to unpleasant thoughts.
“Well,” Adrian drawled in that smooth tone of voice again. “I wouldn’t take you
unwillingly, so if your not willing I can just leave and find someone who is.”
he shrugged elegantly and turned around walking to the bench his shirt was on
and picking it up. Draco saw and watched as he was about to pull his shirt back
on, didn’t want him to really, knew the other was playing this game to get him
to stop him and he despised the other boy and himself for what he did next.
“How do I know you won’t use this against me?” he said hating himself for even
saying the words. Adrian half turned to look at the blonde, his white button up
shirt hanging half on at the crook of his elbows and an eyebrow arched.
“What would there be to gain from it? Hmm?” Adrian asked casually.
“My utter humiliation for one,” Draco bit out.
“I’ll let you in on a little something Draco,” Adrian said stepping towards the
blonde a bit. “Half of the combined 6th and 7th years, both males and females,
have tried something with the same sex. The majority of the time nothing comes
from it, we have our fun before we go off and marry the opposite sex and
produce heirs, some of the times having lovers on the side. It’s the pure-blood
curse as you know. Now you do have that odd one percent that tends to disregard
the pure-blood tradition and never marry the opposite sex and, well you could
imagine what happens then. Unless you come of age and then declare you’re not
going to marry, or through circumstances you somehow gain control of your
inheritance, well, there’s nothing that can be done. You have control of what
you were to receive by inheritance and that’s that. But those rarely ever
happen because we all just do as tradition and marry and produce heirs.” He
shrugged as he continued.
“It’s a well known and well accepted part of being a Slytherin, being a PURE-
BLOOD which you’ll understand next year. It’s only held between 6th and 7th
years and not all participate no matter that it’s accepted in the magical world
but it’s held between the two years as an unspoken agreement to keep silent.
I’m giving you the privilege of knowing before hand. There are a few other 5th
years that know but that’s because a 7th year approached them. This is our
seventh year so were sort of fulfilling our fantasies while we can.”
Draco tried to digest all he had been told. It was a lot to take in and he was
stunned about this apparent secret of the 6th and 7th year Slytherins. His
father and mother never mentioned much of their schooldays and he wondered if
this tradition for the higher two years of Slytherins had existed then. He
looked at Adrian with a calculating look trying to determine if he was telling
the truth.
Adrian moved closer to Draco but refrained from touching him. “Whatever happens
remains between us. We may be Slytherins but we do have our own code of…morals
I guess you could say or ethics maybe. Either way, Slytherins stick together as
you know and we hold secrecy unless it’s advantageous to us. It’s not like
anything will come of it, after this year I leave to do whatever with my life,
marry some pure-blood witch and produce an heir. Whatever happens remains
between us,” he repeated.
Draco thought about it some more before agreeing.
End Flashback
After he had agreed they hadn’t done anything more than Adrian giving him a
blow job and Draco returning with a hand job that Adrian had said was the best
way to start off since he was unsure. He had awkwardly tossed the other off not
really sure what to do and Adrian had given him his first blow job by a guy.
After that encounter in the shower they had had a few more where during one of
last ones Draco had tentatively and unsurely given his first blow job to
another guy. Adrian had coached Draco on the best ways to go about it and he
had learned under the older Slytherins tutelage. They hadn’t gone further than
giving each other blow jobs but Draco had learned from Adrian the finer points
of being with another male. He had even explained the way of sex to him though
they never went that far, Draco just couldn’t work himself up to try that yet.
And true to his word the fact that he, Draco Malfoy, was having any kind of
sexual relations with another male was never brought up.
During the summer after the Aurors searched the manor for Dark Art’s objects he
and his mother had taken a vacation to France. Without his father around and
his mother too busy caught up in herself he was able to have some fun and
indulge his recent desire for the male gender. That summer he had had after
much consideration and thought decided he wanted to know what it was like to be
with another man in that way. So he had, with the careful brew of glamour
potions, changed how he looked – the eyes and hair anyway. That summer a
wonderful French teen, Jean-Luc, another wizard who he had met and had frequent
encounters with was the one he finally sought to drown his curiosity in.
Jean-Luc had been patient with him and had seemed to understand his hesitancy
and ‘virgin’ status when it came to men. The other boy, who had dark hair and
eyes and a pale complexion like his own, had been easy to talk too coupled with
his own new identity, Destin, a honey brown haired and ocean blue eyed teen.
Draco was able to without repercussions let the other know that, no, he hadn’t
done that before. Jean-Luc had let him top first explaining that he, being the
more experienced could coach Draco/Destin. After that first time Draco had
asked what it was like to bottom and Jean-Luc had explained that it was a
wonderful feeling once you got comfortable with it and explained that as long
as you were prepared properly it would be easier. He had said that there would
still be a bit of pain, granted but if done right the pleasure would be worth
it. And Draco had found after finally getting himself worked up to bottom that
Jean-Luc had been right and that, yes, it was worth it.
Shaking him self back to reality Draco looked out the window again and sighed.
So he might just be, maybe, a little attracted to his friend who happened to be
going out with some girl this weekend. But Harry was obviously straight and his
very, very small attraction was easy to ignore. Or so he told himself. Heaving
another side Draco turned away from the window and headed back to his room head
only slightly more clear than before.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Harry woke a bit earlier than usual Saturday morning and briefly wondered why
before it came to him. Today was Saturday and the day he was supposed to go on
a date with Cho Chang. Harry lay back in his bed and stared at the canopy
ceiling. He was going on a date with Cho today, they were going to have lunch
together and then hang out after that and for some reason he felt a bit uneasy
about it. When he had went out with Cho back in fifth year he had felt uneasy
then too but today his uneasiness felt a bit different. Then it had been
because he really liked Cho had wanted to go out with her and was worried about
screwing things up. But he had gotten over his crush on Cho and now basically
just found her attractive as he had before. He only agreed really, because he
was hoping for something to take his mind of things.
With a heavy sigh he rose from the bed and decided to get ready for the day,
pushing his uneasiness to the back of his mind. Once showered and dressed, his
dorm mates having woken up while he was showering were also dressed, he and Ron
walked down to the common room where Hermione was waiting for them.
“You look very nice today Harry,” Hermione said with a smile as she looked at
her friend. He was wearing black baggy jeans that hung low on his hips and
hugged nicely at his waist and ass and a blue sleeveless shirt that fitted his
upper body well. The shirt had a black wolf on the front in a defensive stance
as if ready to attack and he was wearing his black combat boots. His hair was
as wild and untamed as ever with that ‘just out of bed’ or ‘just shagged’ look
and his eyebrow had a blue barbell in it that match his shirt. All in all he
looked very attractive.
“Thanks Hermione,” Harry said with an almost embarrassed sort of grin.
“What about me Hermione, don’t I look nice?” Came the whiny question from the
redhead who stood beside Hermione. Harry barely stopped himself from rolling
his eyes at the jealousy he could hear in Ron’s voice.
“You look nice also Ron.” Hermione said leaning in to kiss her boyfriend on the
lips as he smiled happily at her. Harry did roll his eyes this time as he
turned and began heading toward the portrait.
“Now lets go eat!” Ron exclaimed from behind Harry somewhere and together the
three walked down to the Great Hall. As Harry walked into the Great Hall he
passed a look over to the Ravenclaw table to see if Cho was there. She was
there chatting among her friends and looked up as if she felt the stare on her.
When she saw it was Harry she gave him a smile that he returned and a small
look from under dark lashes before turning back to her friends. Harry sat down
across from Ron and Hermione and began to eat his breakfast.
Breakfast passed quickly and then the three friends were on their way to
Hogsmeade. The walk there was pleasant enough and for the first time in awhile
Harry was not quite as annoyed to be around his friends. They walked around a
few of the shops before it was time for Harry’s lunch date with Cho. Ron and
Hermione were walking with him there before they would separate.
“Now Harry, try to have a good time with Cho today. This might help you out of
this bad mood you’ve been in,” Hermione said in that tone Harry was really
starting to hate. He sighed; knowing that he may have been a bit snappier than
usual and a bit colder but Hermione’s statement irked him.
“Hermione,” Harry said holding back a long suffering sigh.
“Just try to have a good time, okay Harry?” she said quickly before he could
say anything.
Harry rolled his eyes and this time let his long-suffering sigh be heard.
“Alright Hermione,” was his dry, monotonous reply. He didn’t know why his
friend was making such a huge deal of this when he barely cared. He felt
apathetic about it all. Indifferent, really, not interested nor uninterested
just aware of it. They reached the door to the Three Broomsticks and Harry went
inside as Ron and Hermione went off someplace else. Looking around he saw Cho
sitting at one of the tables and when she saw him she smiled as he walked over
to her.
“Hi Cho,” he said not really sure what else to say. She gave a small laugh as
she gestured him to sit.
“Hi Harry,” she said. There was an awkward pause that followed until Madam
Rosmerta came up and asked them what they wanted. They each ordered and then
sat in an uncomfortable silence.
“So,” Harry said after a moment. “How are your classes going?” It was a neutral
if lame attempt at conversation but it was the best he could do.
“They’ve been good, though, Snape’s a slave driver with his class. Not anything
unexpected just really annoying I guess,” she said with a shrug and a roll of
her eyes.
“I know what you mean,” Harry said glad to at least have the uncomfortable
silence gone. Madam Rosmerta came back with their lunch and set it down before
walking away. “Sometimes I can’t decide whether he hates me more or the fact
that I got into his 6th year class but he seems to have some weird thing for
making each and every one of my classes complete hell.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard how he treats you in class. It’s really horrible,” she said
touching a hand softly on his arm with a sympathetic smile. He shrugged and
returned her smile.
“Yeah, well, I’ve been putting up with that since 1st year. You get kind of
used to it after a while.” He said as he took a bite of his lunch. “That and
also showing that I actually know what were learning tends to either throw him
off a bit or make him even angrier.” He said and passed a look around him.
There were a few other students about, some with dates or some with groups of
friends. Wonder what Draco’s up to, he absently thought wondering what his
blonde friend could be doing at this moment while he was here on a date that he
was indifferent about.
“…don’t you think?” Harry snapped back to attention realizing he had probably
been zoning out for a bit.
Giving Cho a sheepish smile Harry said: “Uh, sorry. What was that you said?”
She gave him a rather odd look before shaking her head. “I said that DADA this
year is much better with Devington compared to Umbridge. Don’t you think so?”
“Oh! Yeah, it is much better but anyone had to be better than Umbridge. I would
have been surprised if someone could be worst than her. Devington’s done a
great job so far this year,” Harry replied. They spent a few minutes talking
about the DADA classes as they ate their lunches and things began to relax a
bit. It seemed a bit easier to talk to her now that she didn’t seem to be
crying and bringing up horrible events. The rest of their lunch passed with
conversations of Quidditch, interests and other such things. Harry found his
attention wander a few times wondering what Ron and Hermione were doing, or
what Draco may be doing.
“Would you like to head back to the castle with me?” Cho asked when there was a
pause in the conversation.
“Yeah, sure I guess,” Harry answered with a shrug. He didn’t know where Ron and
Hermione were and didn’t feel like really taking the time to find them.
“Great, let’s go!” They rose from the table, Harry paying for the lunch, before
they left the Three Broomsticks and began their trek back to the castle. They
walked in comfortable silence for a bit, side by side as they walked back to
the castle. Halfway there, as they were walking back through the forested part
that would lead to the gates of the castle Cho stopped. When Harry realized she
did he, too, stopped and looked at her questioningly.
“Cho?” he asked, looking at her a bit puzzled. She was giving him an odd look
as she moved closer to him. Harry was vividly reminded of the D.A. meeting
before Christmas break and what had happened then. He wondered if Cho was going
to kiss him again. He stood there rooted to the spot. Cho stood in front of him
and before he could even react soft lips were pressing to his. Shocked, he
stood there frozen for a moment before he pressed his lips back to hers. Her
arms came up to around his neck as their lips moved lightly against each other.
As he slid his arms around her waist, he lightly ran his tongue across her
bottom lip. The mouth under his opened and his tongue glided in rubbing lightly
against Cho’s. Finally the need for air became an issue and Harry pulled back.
They looked at each other for a moment before Cho smiled. Harry returned with a
small smile himself.
“That was nice,” Cho said, looking up at Harry from under her lashes coyly.
Harry ‘hmmed’ lightly. They shared another kiss before they continued their
journey back to the castle.
“Well I guess I’ll see you later then?” Harry said as they were about to
separate.
“Yeah I guess I’ll see you around,” she replied with a small smile. They stood
their awkwardly for a moment before Harry turned and began walk in the
direction of Gryffindor tower. Cho’s smile slowly slid into a smirk as she
watched the black haired boy leave.
This will be easy, she thought as she turned to head back to Ravenclaw.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Harry left Cho not really knowing what to think of the date. On the one hand he
was glad it went so well but on the other he wasn’t sure why he felt a bit
uneasy about it all. As he went on his way he contemplated about the date. He
was so deep in thought he didn’t even notice where he was going until he walked
into another person.
“Hey! Watch where you’re go…Oh!” that was a familiar voice and Harry looked up
quickly to see none other than Draco Malfoy who was looking at him from his
sprawled position on the stone floor. “Potter,” was said with a small sneer.
“Why don’t you watch where you’re going you clumsy oaf?”
Harry picked himself up from the floor and glanced around casually. “Sod off
Malfoy its not like I walked into you on purpose,” Harry said. Draco looked
around the hall before smirking at Harry.
“So how was the date?” he asked and quirked a brow. Harry shook his head and
gestured the blonde to follow him. With an odd look Draco followed Harry at a
small distance. Harry ducked into an almost unseen alcove and Draco after a
moment followed in behind him. The alcove was slightly bigger than a broom
closet. “How did you know this was here?”
“I just do,” Harry said as he pulled his wand and cast a quick silencing charm.
“It was okay I guess. I wasn’t really all that excited about it to begin with
if you remember. But yeah, I guess it was okay. We ending up kissing,” Harry
said with a shrug, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes,
therefore missing the brief flash of jealousy that momentarily lit stormy grey
eyes.
“Oh, you kissed?” Draco said in an even tone with a raised eyebrow. Harry
opened his eyes and stared at the blonde for a moment.
“Yeah we kissed, twice, no big deal really.” Harry said carelessly.
“Was it any good? I remember you told me about a kiss with her before. How did
you describe it? Ah, yes, I believe you said it was “wet and a little
disturbing, nothing at all like you expected” or something along those lines.”
Draco said tone still even. He knew his jealousy was fueling this and he should
stop because, really, it could only end badly.
“That was how it was the first time around, last year. This time was better
considering she wasn’t crying. What they hell is wrong with you though?” Harry
asked looking at the blonde with an expression between confusion and mild
irritation. Draco’s expression was shuttered, unreadable, something Harry
hadn’t seen since they made the transition from truce to friendship and it
bothered him. Dug under his skin and irritated him like a rash.
“Nothing is wrong with me,” Draco bit out calmly. “I was just politely asking
about your date with Chang, is all.”
“Then why are you being so, I don’t know, annoying about it, more annoying than
usual anyway?” Harry snapped glaring at his friend. He had straightened up form
the wall and was now standing with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m not being annoying, just curious as to how your date went,” Draco said
much more calmly and without the earlier bite.
“Huh, could’ve fooled me Draco, you seem a bit irritated.” Harry replied.
“Well I’m not Harry,” Draco snapped back and then rolled his eyes. “I’m glad
you had such a nice time with Chang. Now if you excuse me I’m going to my
room.”
“You can be such a prat sometimes,” Harry muttered under his breath. “Check the
hall before just step out, people should be coming back from Hogsmeade now.”
Harry said louder looking at the blonde’s back as he was about to leave. He got
no reply but a quick backward glance and nod before Draco left the alcove.
Breathing a heavy sigh Harry wondered what the hell just happened as he too
left the alcove. Luckily there were no students around but Harry could hear
them in the distance. With a quick look around he hurried off to Gryffindor
tower. He met Ron and Hermione on the steps leading to the tower.
“Hey Harry,” Ron said as he saw his friend approaching.
“How was you date?” Hermione asked with a smile on her face.
“Hey, guys and it was fine,” he said. Ron and Hermione gave him expectant looks
and he sighed realizes they probably wanted to know what happened on the date.
They entered the portrait and sat together in a somewhat secluded part of the
common room. Once seated Harry recanted the date for his friends down to the
kiss. When asked again how it was, was it better than before – what was with
that question today anyway? He thought – he gave them the same answer as he had
Draco. When their curiosity was satisfied enough Ron ventured a game of
Exploding Snap and Harry accepted. Hermione sighed and pulled out a book to
read. Things almost seemed normal between the three again.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Draco stalked to his room after leaving the alcove, bit out the password and
threw himself into a chair. That had gone in a spectacularly fucked up way,
Draco realized with a grimace. His stupid jealousy just had to rear its ugly
head at that moment. He didn’t mean to sound so much like a complete prat for
once. But seeing Harry looking very nice in what he was wearing and knowing
that it was for his date with that stupid Chang bint had just made him want to
hex Cho Chang with something very nasty and unpleasant. And then to hear that
they had kissed, twice, was just a twisting to the metaphorical knife.
Deep breath Draco, he thought and did so taking a nice long and deep breath in
and exhaling it slowly through his nose. He should have expected something like
this, honestly he should have. It was a date, and people tend to kiss on dates.
It didn’t help Draco that he was attracted to Harry. It was a crush that’s all,
Draco reasoned with himself calmly. And crush aside he knew he liked spending
time with the black haired boy. They had many things in common and Draco found
it easy to talk to Harry and he was sure Harry found the same thing with him.
Harry was someone who could understand and Draco was glad for that.
He sighed again and put his head in his hands. He didn’t want to think about
this anymore, about how he let his jealousy rule him for that brief moment.
Deciding dinner wasn’t all that appealing he went to his room removing his
clothes as he went. Maybe a bit of a lie down was in order.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
AN: I know, I know! This took awhile to put up. If you read The End or the
Beginning (TETB) then you know why. If you don't (and you should: Shameless
promoting) then I've been having problems with my computer and couldn't
actually post. But it's here now. YAY! Anyway for those wondering Harry/Draco
will be happening in about three or four chapters. I wanted to build up there
friendship first and show some aspects of it before I began on them in a
relationship. Once again sorry for the delays readers!
***** A bit of Normalcy and Ravenclaw Seduction *****

Author's notes: Check Chapter One
===============================================================================
AN: This chapter takes place about two weeks after Harry’s and Cho’s date,
about March 7. Also Cho is Head Girl and therefore has her own room.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 13: A bit of Normalcy and Ravenclaw Seduction
After that Saturday and the date with Cho, the Ravenclaw and Harry hung out as
frequently as possible. That Sunday, the day after the date a few of the
Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had gotten together for a mock Quidditch game. The
weeks following the date the two had spent time together snogging and talking
and spending time together. Harry found that ironically after all the drama he
went through over Cho last year; they had very little in common. Sure they each
liked flying, and could talk about classes, Quidditch and other inane subjects
but when it came down to it they had hardly anything in common with each other.
He also found that while he liked spending time with Cho, well, kissing Cho is
more like it, than things seemed fine. He still wasn’t overly enthusiastic
about Cho, not like he was in fifth year but chalked it up to his sometimes
apathetic attitude toward anything and everything. Draco had told him once that
he just lacked emotions sometimes it seemed like Draco himself did. Harry had
told the blonde that sometimes it was easier to just not care, to be
emotionless. Draco had just shrugged then and remained silent but Harry thought
the other boy may have actually agreed with him.
Harry had talked to Draco only a few times and each time Draco seemed to be a
bit irritated about something and a lot more closed off than he had been since
they became friends and he avoided all talk of Cho. Harry wasn’t as stupid and
innocent about certain things as many believed him to be and he had a few
theories on Draco’s behavior. But he had not thought any of them to be the
possible reason. Harry found that as long as he didn’t bring up Cho when around
the blonde than things seemed almost normal. Well as normal as things between
them could be anyway.
Things with Ron and Hermione had seemed almost normal again but Harry knew that
there was some distance between them as there were just some things the two
didn’t and possibly wouldn’t ever understand. Hermione was happy to see him
make such changes this year what with his better grades and his less anti-
social behavior than the beginning of the year. Ron was happy to see him acting
like he did before Sirius, before the Tri-wizard tournament when he was an
almost normal person who didn’t seem so cynical and broody. They didn’t know it
was an act, just something to keep the questions at bay and if they did then
they didn’t show so. Harry rather thought they didn’t know it was an act.
Things in his life seemed to be going somewhat well and that was what made him
worry. Maybe it was just the pessimistic part of him but he felt that things
were going too well for him like he thought before the Valentine Incident with
Voldemort. He felt edgy and paranoid and just wanted the feelings to stop. He
thought this thing with Cho would help that, help him stop feeling edgy like
this but it didn’t. So suspicious and nervous was what Harry was and it really
wasn’t doing anything for him to be this way. He rather thought he was getting
a bit too much like Mad-Eye Moody and that just wasn’t sitting well with him.
But he tried as best as he could to ignore the feeling. It only worked half the
time but it was enough sometimes and that was the best Harry could hope for.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Draco had been trying his best to not even look at that Chang girl especially
when she happened to be with Harry but found himself doing so anyway. He was
annoyed with the Ravenclaw and had had the urge many times to hex her something
awful. He had found himself glaring at Chang from across the hall at meals, in
the corridors if he saw her and just about any other time he saw her. He knew
he was being silly about it all, really he was but he couldn’t help it. His
crush on Harry was making him jealous and irrational.
But some good did come of it, he found after watching her one day. He noticed
that whenever Harry was in proximity or mentioned a strange light came to her
eyes. He had seen this happen many times but wasn’t sure what it could mean.
His Slytherin instincts said that there was something the girl was planning but
he wasn’t sure about this. She seemed to be innocent and sweet but Draco knew
these things were deceptive sometimes. He knew Pansy looked like she couldn’t
really doing anyone harm but she was very handy with some of her more defensive
charms.
He could be wrong but he was almost sure he wasn’t. Something about Chang had
him suspicious and he didn’t think bringing it up to Harry was good idea. If he
was wrong he would look utterly stupid and Harry might think he was trying to
purposely make trouble. He had worked hard for Harry’s friendship and didn’t
want to lose that. He would watch her and if it looked like he was right in his
assessment than he would tell Harry but not until he was completely sure.
Jealousy, Draco realized, was sometimes a real annoyance.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
She had waited as patiently as possible for her reward, conducted things as
best as she could to make sure her plan worked. And now after almost two weeks
of waiting she was sure she could succeed. She was sure that everything was set
for her to strike. She was confident of her appearance and knew that with the
right amount of seduction she would get her prize. Cho smirked to herself, head
down, as she walked to her next class letting the chatter of her friends float
around her. She had invited Harry to her room an hour after dinner. He had
agreed after very little persuading. Tonight, she thought as she walked into
the door of her next class. Tonight all my plans come together.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Harry was glad it was Friday and the last class of the day and that the class
was over. He sighed as he walked out of Transfiguration, Ron and Hermione close
behind him. His mind was currently preoccupied with Cho’s earlier request of
invite to her head girl room after dinner. She had pulled him aside and asked
him privately, earlier in the day. He hadn’t told Ron or Hermione about the
invitation and had decided not to. He wasn’t as innocent and naïve as many may
think. He knew that there were only so many reason Cho would invite him to her
Head Girl room and he was pretty sure he knew why she did.
“Harry?” he started briefly and turned to look at Hermione who was looking at
him questioningly. “You seemed a bit preoccupied, is something wrong?” she
asked, her brow furrowed.
“No Hermione I just have a lot on my mind that’s all,” Harry said with a small
smile. Hermione had looked at him hard for a moment before nodded slowly.
“If you need to talk, we’re here,” she said and Ron nodded his head
empathetically.
Dinner had passed in the usual manner with consumption of food and idle
conversations. Harry had been too focused on Cho and her invitation for the
night to engage in too much conversation. When dinner was over he went back to
the tower with the other Gryffindors and excused himself to the dorm where he
changed clothes into a loose pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt, grabbed
his journal and a pen, pulled and spelled his curtains shut and settle back
with the leather bound book in his lap.
March 7, 1997
The weirdest thing happened today, okay maybe not weirdest but pretty damn odd
all the same. Just before my second to last class Cho asked me to come to her
Head Girl room tonight. We’ve been hanging out a bit the last two weeks and
we’ve kissed a lot too. The fact that she’s invited me to her rooms tonight
hasn’t passed by me. I have an idea of what she wants, seen the looks she
throws me sometimes so I’m not stupid. Nor am I innocent or naïve and that I
have my two weeks of privacy for. The first week after I broke away from the
Dursley’s I took the chance to have time to myself. While at a store getting
myself new clothes I met a girl who worked there at the store. She helped me
out with finding stuff for me. Her name was Andrea Vaughn. She was really nice
to me and after helping me just out of nowhere asked if I’d like to come to a
party, a rave she had called. Said I looked like I needed a bit of independence
and fun. I was hesitant at first but then thoughts of the prophecy and just all
the fucked up things going on in my life made me agree. I realized later that
agreeing was probably the best thing I could have done.
She said for me to meet her at the store front later that night and she would
take me to the place where the rave was being held. She had even given a
suggestion on what I should wear, I was out of my depth and her assistance was
much appreciated and welcomed. So I had met her later that night and we had got
a ride with a friend of hers named Brent to where the rave would be. When I had
stepped into the warehouse I had been surprised. It was nothing like I’d seen
before, not even expected. Andrea had told me in the car ride there that I
would probably see things I haven’t seen before and made sure to imprint into
my mind that I was to stick by her for my first rave experience.
The middle of the warehouse which I had guessed was for dancing had many
writhing, twisting and grinding bodies together dancing, or what I presumed was
dancing. That night I stuck close to Andrea like she said. She taught me to
dance the way those people had been dancing, I had drank alcohol and by the end
of the night I had danced with many people, girl and guys, even making out with
both a few times. I lost myself that night; I was stripped away from a world
where I was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. I had been just Harry that night,
a regular normal teen who just wanted to get pissed, have fun and leave my
worries behind.
When I woke the next morning I was in an unknown place and had panicked at
first until Andrea walked into the room with a cup of coffee and a bottle of
Advil. She explained that I had been drunk the previous night and she didn’t
know where I lived or was staying so she let me crash at her place. Once the
Advil started to work and I was feeling not as bad as before she offered me to
spend the day with her as she didn’t have work and normally sat around because
the majority of her friends worked that day. I agreed and after telling her I
would come back to her place I had gone back to the Leaky Cauldron for money, a
shower and a change of clothes. With that done I had spent the day with Andrea.
That night she invited me to another rave that had been happening in Brighton.
I agreed immediately seeking that free feeling again. We went and I lost myself
once again in the music and the dancing and the drinking that I did. And
snogging and groping random people. I was a totally different person, more
adventurous and risky with things that didn’t concern my life, well my
continual living anyway. It was only my second time there and I’d already done
things I hadn’t done before or really thought about doing. I’d made out
shamelessly with girls and guys, got groped and groped back, it was wonderful
and new and something I wanted more of. That night though was memorable in more
than just one way.
I had stayed at Andrea’s again that night. I wasn’t as drunk as the night
before but still didn’t want to risk heading back to the Leaky Cauldron. Well
when we got back to her flat after much time spent at the rave when we had made
out a few times we wind up having slightly drunken sex. She hadn’t drank that
much that night I remember as she told me she had work in the early afternoon
the next day and wanted to have as little a hangover as possible. We were both
slightly drunk when we tumbled into her flat and somehow into her bed. I
remembered the night, the night I had sex for the first time, the night I lost
my virginity to a girl I barely knew while slightly drunk. I remembered it
enough anyway.
The next morning she had asked if I regretted it and I told her truthfully
after a moments thought that, no, I didn’t regret it. And I hadn’t. I mean I
had that stupid prophecy and really, I could’ve ended up dying anytime within
the next year. I didn’t want to die a virgin and sex with a somewhat anonymous
person made it all the better. At least than I know it’s not because I was the
Boy-Who-Lived. We spent a few hours together that day before we separated as
she had to go to work. She had asked about me coming by again any time but I
had just told her maybe. Told her I went to a boarding school and would be
leaving soon. I had also known that the first week I stayed at the Leaky
Cauldron I would be by myself but the second week the Weasley’s and Hermione
would be there and it might be harder to sneak out. We had departed out a good
note that day.
But I had found the chance to sneak out a few more times even when the
Weasley’s and Hermione were there. It was hard to do it but I found ways of
succeeding and getting out. Those two weeks had been the best; the raves, the
dancing, the drinking. It had been wonderful until I had to go back to school,
go back to being Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. But those two weeks had
become my little secret. I had done things in those two weeks that I never
thought of doing and actually enjoyed. I had always been around people (i.e.
the Dursley’s) who thought things like boy’s liking other boys and girls liking
other girls were wrong and dirty. But those two weeks opened up my eyes to new
things. Andrea is bisexual actually.
As for me, well, I had fun with some other guys at the raves (hand jobs, blow
jobs) but never anything more than that. I liked it but I want to keep my Rave
Week – as I have fondly dubbed it and my Hogwarts life separate. I was a much
different person during those two weeks at those raves and I didn’t want to
taint it with my life at Hogwarts.
Harry sighed looking over his words again. It had been a while since he had
thought of his summer activities, normally preferring to do so when alone.
Glancing at his wrist where his watch lay he cursed softly under his breath. He
had little more than five minutes before he was supposed to be going to see
Cho. Stuffing his pen into his journal he opened his hangings and looked
around. No one was in the dorm as he had thought. He rose quickly and stuffed
his journal into his trunk.
He thought quickly about the best way to do this. He really didn’t feel like
explaining to his friends where he was going. With a firm nod to himself he
used his old school bag (the one he stopped using because of Neville’s present
from Christmas) and stuffed the map into it before pulling his invisibility
cloak around him. Cloak hanging half off him he flicked his wand at his bed
curtains with a muttered spell. With the curtains securely locked against
others he pocketed his wand, covered himself fully with the cloak and left the
dorm.
Making his way carefully down the stairs from the dorm he stopped at the bottom
and looked around the common room. There were still a good many people in there
and he knew getting out without alerting attention was going to be hard.
Cautiously making his way to the entrance to the tower he stood by it, barely
holding a sigh of frustration in. he stood there for a few moments glancing
around the common room trying to think of something when the portrait opened.
He moved out the way as Ginny Weasley came through the portrait. Holding back
his curiosity for the moment he quickly rushed out the portrait that closed
seconds behind his departure. Staring back at the Fat Lady but not really
seeing her Harry briefly wondered why Ginny was coming to the tower almost an
hour after dinner. Then he brushed it aside deciding that what she did really
wasn’t his business and began his trek to Ravenclaw territory.
Once far enough away he pulled his bag around to the front and pulled out the
map as he tugged his wand from his pocket. “I solemnly swear I am up to no
good,” he whispered and waited for the map to finish displaying the school.
Once done he began walking again, heading for the Ravenclaw part of the school.
Head Boy’s and Girl’s always had there own rooms not far from that of there
common room, outside of the other dorm but still in the vicinity. Harry watched
the map as he moved quickly but cautiously to his destination. It wasn’t
actually curfew quite yet but he really didn’t want to be seen. He finally made
it to where the Ravenclaw common room was guarded by a portrait. Bypassing that
he continued halfway down the corridor where there was another portrait.
He stopped in front of it and sighed looking at the map to make sure no one was
near he tapped the map and whispered: “Mischief managed,” before closing it up
and putting it in his bag. Pulling off the cloak he stuffed it into the bag
also threw it back over his shoulder again. Staring at the portrait of a
sleeping man he furrowed his brow lightly.
“Uh, excuse me,” he said to the portrait that snorted noisily before opening
his eye to peer at him sleepily.
“Wha’ ya’ wan’?” came the slurred response.
“Waterfall,” Harry said, giving the password Cho had given him earlier and the
man in the portrait grunted before swinging open to admit him. With a slight
bit of hesitation he stepped through the portrait wondering why he felt a
tendril of apprehension curling in his stomach. Cho was sitting on small couch
in front of the fire in the common room. Glancing around briefly he noticed a
door to the right of the room and one to the left which he guessed led to the
bedroom and the bathroom.
Turning his attention back to Cho he noticed that she had changed from her
school uniform into a pair of black pants and a blue t-shirt. She smiled at him
as she saw him enter. “Come on in Harry and sit,” she said pointing to the
other end of the couch she occupied. Harry nodded with a small smile and sat on
the other end of the couch dropping his bag by the side.
“I didn’t go back to the common room after dinner so that’s why I still have my
bag if you’re wondering,” he said glancing at her briefly.
“Its fine,” Cho replied easily. Silence hung in the air after that. Harry
looked around the room, at the fire, at anything but Cho for the moment.
Finally running out of things to look at though, he looked at the witch who
occupied the other half of the couch he sat on.
“Um, you look nice Cho,” he said casually with only a slight wavering to his
voice. That tendril of apprehension wriggled unpleasantly in his gut for a
moment and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was a bit nervous or something
else altogether.
“Thank you Harry,” Cho said sweetly with a beautiful, beaming smile. “So…how
were the rest of you classes?”
“Good, okay I guess. I got a bunch of work to do over the weekend that Herm –”
he stopped before he fully said it remembering last years in a flash of memory
and the Ravenclaw’s reaction to Hermione. “Ron tends to leave everything to the
last minute to do and asks for my help sometimes.” He finished lamely
completely changing what he was going to say. ‘That Hermione will bug Ron and
me about it until she’s satisfied’. This was true even though he had taken to
not procrastinating any more and actually putting real thought and effort to
school.
The smile that was on Cho’s face tightened a bit around the corners of her full
lips at the almost said name but she still answered calmly. “Well you have two
days over the weekend to do it, I’m sure you and Ron can get it done by then.”
“Yeah I guess,” he said lamely. The room descended into silence once more and
Harry stared into the fireplace not knowing what else to really do. What if Cho
asked him hear to talk and he made a move on her? He would look completely
stupid for thinking she wanted do to something more than talking. Bring on the
anonymous person at a club or rave and I’m perfectly fine but bring on someone
who knows I’m the Boy-Who-Lived and I freeze up like a bloody idiot, Harry
thought barely holding himself from snorting scornfully.
With Andrea and any of the people at those raves he had the advantage of them
not knowing him as more than Harry, another teenager looking for a bit of fun.
But here in the Wizarding World he was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and that
was his disadvantage. People most likely would not want him for him but for the
hero, the idol, the icon. If Cho Chang wanted something to do with him after
that first big disaster it was mostly because she wanted a piece of the hero
and not just Harry the teenager. He had come to expect this, knowing that
people would want him for the icon and not the person. He had come to almost
accept that fact really. It still didn’t mean he liked it though.
Cho looked at the raven haired boy with pursed lips as she thought about how to
get what she wanted. With a small smile playing around her lips she stood from
her end of the couch and stood in front of Harry blocking his view of from the
fire. When she had his eyes on her she smiled seductively, put a hand on his
shoulder to push him back so he was sitting upright and then straddled his lap
slowly. Wrapping her arms around his neck she pressed her lips to his moving
them slowly against his.
Harry hesitated a moment wondering why he felt that tendril of apprehension
wriggling more violently in his gut. Deciding to ignore it he began kissing the
girl in his lap back wrapping his arms around her slim waist. At first there
was just a slow soft play of lips on lips and then Cho darted her tongue out
flicking lightly, teasingly at his bottom lip. Parting his lips his tongue met
hers, velvet wetness sliding against velvet wetness as they’re tongues caressed
each others. Cho’s hands made their way to Harry’s black hair, tangling in the
silky, unruly locks. She moaned in the back of her throat as he nibbled gently
on her bottom lip before trailing light kisses across her jaw. Cho moaned
lightly, tilting her head back to give the Gryffindor better access. As he
continued to her ear and nibbled gently on the lobe she began to rock lightly
back and forth in his lap.
Harry traced the path from her ear back to her mouth catching her swollen lips
in another kiss as his right hand went to her silky hair tangling in the
strands and his left smoothed a trail down her back to cup one round arse
cheek. He pulled her closer as he kissed her.
Cho pulled back untangling her arms from Harry’s neck and tugged the t-shirt
she was wearing up over his head exposing the blue lacy bra she wore
underneath. She flung the shirt to the floor quickly and smiled enticingly at
the black haired boy. Harry gazed appreciatively at her ample chest that was
almost eye level. She winked at him as she stood from her straddling position
and began to remove her pants, bending at the waist and sliding the black
cotton material down her legs seductively. Underneath that she was wearing a
blue thong and as she stepped out of the pants and tossed them to the side she
ran her hands from her thighs upward, over a taut and flat stomach, up over
round and perky blue lace encased breast and smirked.
“Like what you see?” she purred as she teased her body with feather light
touches. Harry nodded a bit dazedly and stood up walking up to Cho. He snaked
an arm about her waist and used his free hand to knead her left breast rubbing
his thumb over her nipple that was slightly visible through the thin see
through material. It began to harden under his ministrations and Cho mewled
softly.
“How about you point me to your bedroom and we continue this there?” Harry
asked voice husky as he dipped his head and sucked lightly at her neck. Who was
he to pass up an opportunity for sex gifted so freely? It may be because he was
really the Boy-Who-Lived but he was all a teenager. A teenager who was no
longer a virgin and knew what sex was like. Besides, his right hand could use a
break.
“D-door on the left,” she rasped out then moaned as her neck was sucked and
licked and bit. Nodding Harry maneuvered them to head to the door on the left
firmly ignoring the icy grip of uneasiness that was grasping at him, tugging at
his insides and demanding to be acknowledged. As he stumbled through the open
door he thought: what could possibly go wrong from this?
Too bad those careless thoughts were going to be proved wrong. And oh, how
wrong they were.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Question for all those out there...The six book is coming out in 3 days times,
which many of us HP fans are looking forward too. I have a bit left until this
story is done and then a sequel that goes through the summer and their seventh
year. I really want to finish this story but if its not going to be read
because of clashes with the six book let me know! Chapter 14 is being worked on
now and should be out in a week which is after the release of Harry Potter and
the Half-Blood Prince. Leave me your opinions in your reviews.
***** Unease, Free-Flying and Shocking a Snake *****

Author's notes: Check Chapter 1
===============================================================================
Sorry for the late update but I’ve been working on getting more chapters typed
up and working on a few other fics also. But here is chapter 14. Also this
story will be considered AU with the release of HBP. I haven’t read it yet but
have seen spoilers from others on it. So saying that, this story I think will
be considered AU, at least mostly. I might include some stuff from book six,
not sure yet. This will be post-OotP and pre-HBP. And now on to the story!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
 
Chapter 14: Unease, Free-Flying and Shocking a Snake
He awoke slowly not fully comprehending his surroundings as of yet. His
sluggish mind slowly took stock of things as he rose higher into wakefulness.
He was sprawled on his back one arm above his head and the other being pinned
down by something. As he became more aware of his surroundings he realized the
weight on his arm was also pressed up against his side and that the weight was
warm. Opening his eyes slowly he looked down and took in the sight of black
hair. So it was another person. Tilting the head back a bit he caught sight of
the face and then it all came back to him.
Cho’s invitation yesterday, showing up at her room and then, Harry sighed
lightly and closed his eyes again, a round or two of shagging with the
Ravenclaw. It had been good, a nice change from all the wanking he’d been doing
but finally having Cho Chang in any capacity just didn’t give him anything but
the feeling of being sexually satisfied as a round of good sex. Cho was a
beautiful girl really and he could appreciate her and her body which was slim
and curvy but he just didn’t feel any of his old crush for her.
Opening his eyes again he looked at his arms and relief washed through him. The
glamour charm was still in place. It sometimes had an annoying habit of wearing
off in his sleep. It hadn’t in awhile really, but he wanted to be sure.
Shifting slightly the arm across his chest tightened a bit as Cho mumbled
something unintelligible before black lashes fluttered softly open and to
reveal sleepy dark blue eyes. She smiled at Harry lazily as she looked at him a
satisfied glint in her eyes. Harry ignored the glint having accepted the fact
in measures that as the Boy-Who-Lived people would always want him the icon and
not him the person.
“Hey,” he said softly voice soft and husky from sleep. He smiled slightly at
her.
“Hi,” she said back looking to him before glancing around the room. “What time
is it?”
Moving his arm from above his head he looked at his watch. “It’s 5:47 I should
probably get going,” Harry said glancing back at Cho.
“Yeah since technically your not suppose to be in here,” Cho nodded still
looking a bit sleepy. Harry got up from the bed he was in disentangling himself
from the sheets and Cho sparing little thought at being nude. He had had sex
with the girl and really it was hard to feel shy and embarrassed when he was
apathetic almost half the time and didn’t care about a lot of things. He
grabbed up his clothes and began putting them on as Cho lay lazily on the bed
and watched unashamedly. When he was fully clothed, wand in pocket he turned to
look at Cho having had his back to her the whole time while dressing.
“Guess I’m going to get going,” Harry said not knowing what else to say to
someone he’d just had sex with. With Andrea it had been easy he had been clumsy
and shy at first making a lame comment of “That was nice” that she had said was
adorable but he didn’t think Cho would appreciate a “That was nice” from him.
“Yeah, okay,” Cho said with a nod. Harry nodded back and left the room missing
the gleam that came to Cho’s eyes. Gathering his things from the common room he
pulled his invisibility cloak from the bag and made his way from the Head
Girl’s room invisible to all.
Back in her room Cho waited until she heard the closing of the portrait before
standing from the bed, sheet falling from her body. With no care for her nude
state she strode lazily over to the desk that was in her room and sat
immediately in the seat there and began pulling parchment, quill and ink
towards her. With a wicked smile on her face she dipped the quill into the ink,
set the quill to the parchment and began to write.
Dear Carmen Farraday,
I write this letter in regards with which I think will interest you and those
at Witch Weekly….
Cho chuckled as she went about writing her letter that wicked gleam never quite
leaving her eyes.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
 
Harry made it back to the tower quickly before making it up to his dorm room.
His roommates were still asleep which was expected really and welcomed. He
wasn’t up to answering questions that he didn’t want to answer. Taking out his
wand and spelling the curtains so he could open them he tossed his bag lightly
on the trunk in front of his bed and his shoes also. Chewing on his bottom lip
lightly he debated with himself before grabbing his journal and pen and hopping
on to the bed closing the curtains around it. Sitting on the bed he sighed as
he opened his journal and put pen to paper.
March 5, 1997
I should feel happy, you know? I just had sex last night after not having sex
for months – though wanking has been a constant fixture. I should feel relaxed
and stuff but I don’t. I feel a little relaxed but nothing after the times I
shagged Andrea. I have this apprehensive feeling in my stomach again like
something bad is going to happen. This isn’t how I expected things to turn out.
Why do I feel like something really horrible is about to happen? I’m a magnet
for trouble and danger, I think. Maybe that apprehensive feeling is a signal
that I should be prepared for something bad to happen.
I mean right before I got that Howler and that bloody heart – which I still
have nightmares about, thank you ever so much – I had that same apprehensive
feeling as before and looked what happened that day! I guess I should be alert
for anything to happen the next few days. Maybe I should talk to Draco?
Stopping he looked at what he wrote closely and sighed. Maybe he’d developed
some weird radar that told him when bad things were about to happen to him? It
certainly seemed like it. Closing the leather bound journal with the pen in it
he put it to the side and leant against the pillow on his bed. Leaning his head
back he looked up at the ceiling of his canopy and shut his eyes. He didn’t
even realize he had gone to sleep until he was awoken by the voice of his
friend, Ron Weasley.
“Harry you awake yet mate?”
Yawning Harry winced at the stiffness of his back as he stretched his arms
above his head. He’d not only slept in his clothes but also slept leaning
against the pillows. Sighing he pushed his journal under his pillow and opened
the curtain. “Yeah Ron, I’m awake,” he mumbled as he got out of bed. He rubbed
his eyes briefly and grimaced realizing he had slept with his contacts in and
hadn’t taken them out since last night. Rummaging through his nightstand he
pulled out the case to clean his contacts and set about doing so.
“Harry, why are you still wearing your clothes from yesterday?” The voice
belonged to Neville Longbottom and if Harry could see and was facing the other
boy he would have seen Neville giving him an odd look.
“I fell asleep in my clothes last night,” Harry said as he went about putting
his contacts back in. He blinked a few times once they were in before looking
at his dorm mates. They were both almost finished dressing. “I’m going to get a
shower,” Harry said as he began to collect his things for his shower.
“You want me and Mione to wait up for you?” Ron asked as he pulled his shirt on
over his head.
“No you guys go ahead to breakfast I’ll be down once I’m done,” Harry said with
a small smile to his redheaded friend. Ron nodded with a smile as he went about
putting his trainers on. Harry left to take his shower after that. Noticing no
one else in the room he gathered that Seamus and Dean probably went down to
breakfast already. Standing under the spray of warm water one hand palm flat on
the tiled wall, he tilted his face into the stream of water. He sighed as the
water flowed over his upturned face and sluiced down his body, wondering if the
water could possibly wash away his troubles as well as it does his tense
muscles.
Running a hand through his sopping wet hair he sighed again and began to wash
himself thoroughly. When he was done he walked back into his dorm. It was a
Saturday and since he didn’t have to wear a uniform he pulled on the first
thing that touched his hand. A black t-shirt with the phrase: You have the
right to remain silent, so please SHUT UP in white block letters, baggy blue
jeans and his combat boots. Not bothering with his hair he put his eyebrow
piercing in and left the dorm and made his way toward the Great Hall. As he
reached the large open oak doors he paused to take a deep breath before
strolling casually into the hall, ignoring all the eyes that occasionally fell
on him and sat at the Gryffindor table next to Neville and across from Ron and
Hermione.
“Good morning Harry, how’re you?” Hermione asked as he began fixing his plate.
“Morning Mione and I’m doing fine, just a bit tired.” Harry said before
stuffing some a fork-full of egg into his mouth.
“Did you not sleep well last night?” Hermione asked a furrow in her brow as her
eyes lit with concern.
“I fell asleep in my clothes from earlier and my back was stiff and cramped
this morning so it was an uncomfortable sleep that’s all,” Harry said giving
the girl a small smile of reassurance.
“Harry, do you want to go for a fly after breakfast?” Ron asked breaking from
inhaling his food. He looked to Harry questioningly. It wasn’t a Hogsmeade
weekend so they would be in the castle today.
Harry looked thoughtful for a moment before smiling at his redheaded friend.
“Sure Ron why not, we haven’t been out flying together in awhile.” Harry said
nodding his head.
“Ron! Harry! What about your homework? You should be spending this day getting
it done,” Hermione said looking at the two boys disapprovingly.
“Its only Saturday Mione we have all weekend,” Ron said in a whiny voice.
“Besides Mione,” Harry said looking at his female friend. “I only have my
transfiguration and herbology homework to do which I can do tomorrow.” Harry
ignored Ron’s gaping mouth as he looked at Hermione. “So Ron,” Harry said
before Hermione could get back into her little spiel. “Ready to go flying?”
“Yeah Harry lets get our brooms,” Ron said enthusiastically stuffing one last
forkful of food into his mouth before rising from his seat. Harry rose also
along with Hermione and Neville who were joining them on the pitch if not
flying. They made they’re way back to the tower where Ron and Harry retrieved
they’re brooms before all four made they’re way out to the pitch. While
Hermione and Neville sat in the stands, Hermione reading a book and working on
her homework as was Neville, Ron and Harry spent the next few hours flying
around the pitch. Harry had performed a few dangerous stunts that had Hermione
yelling at him when she pulled away from her book long enough.
Harry felt free as he flew through the sky on his Firebolt. He felt the unease
he had felt that morning trickle away and a sense of calm overcoming him. His
mind cleared from its troubled state and he felt at peace. It was something he
needed and he was glad he had decided to join Ron for a nice fly around the
pitch. Other students were out flying also as the weather wasn’t too cold nor
was it warm. It was a nice March day for Scotland and people were taking
advantage of it.
Sighing he flew through a gold goal post and immediately cut sharply upwards
flying vertical. Squinting against the harsh touch of the wind he flew up
higher and higher, the cries and shouts fading as he got further away until he
made an upside down backwards roll and began spiraling back down toward the
earth. A smirk crossed his face as he spiraled down towards the ground the
pitch getting closer and closer. Blocking out everything else he concentrated
on what he was doing. Roughly five feet from the ground he pulled up sharply,
coming horizontal to the ground and began skimming the light scattering of
grass.
Pulling up into the sky once more he smiled as he heard Hermione’s frantic
streaking at his behavior. Stopping his broom from moving he clutched the
handle tightly took a deep breath and then moved his legs so he was crouching
on the broom handle on the balls of his feet. Sucking in another deep breath
realizing he may just be slightly round the bend he began to stand up on the
broom as he let go of the handle with his hand. Blocking out everything else
once again he carefully found his balance on the broom left foot in front of
the right. He wasn’t looking down, no, that might be a bad thing at the moment.
Spreading his arms wide he wobbled briefly, panicking slightly as he thought he
might fall before he steadied himself. He was standing up on his broom in a
position reminiscent of his first year when he had caught the snitch.
Carefully he pressed his left foot down onto the handle slightly with a little
more pressure tipping the broom at a small angle and pushing his Firebolt
forward. At first he was gliding slowly, so slowly it was like he was hardly
moving at all. Soon he picked up speed a bit and was floating a little faster
through the air. Trying to keep his balance was a little hard at first and he
almost fell off but he soon got himself steady and was floating around the
pitch, standing on his broom at a moderate pace. Closing his eyes briefly a
bright smile spread across his face, genuine and uninhibited in its beauty. He
hadn’t smiled like that in awhile.
Keeping his broom horizontal he descended downwards until he was mere feet from
the ground. Looking down he realized he was about two or three feet from the
ground, closed his eyes and jumped off the broom landing with a graceful ‘thud’
onto the hard earth on his feet. And then he heard the clapping. Eyes shooting
open again he saw all those who had been on or by the pitch standing near the
edge of it clapping with awed and shocked looks on their faces. Harry grimaced
slightly at the looks and sighed. Should have remembered that would happen,
Harry thought sourly. Looking through the crowd of students he saw a flash of
silver blonde hair and looked sharply in that direction. Draco was standing in
the back with Blaise Zabini if Harry wasn’t mistaken and Crabbe and Goyle and
glaring at Harry. To anyone else who didn’t know the blonde they would have
thought he was glaring out of anger but Harry knew that he was most likely
sulking. Draco was quite envious when it came to his natural skill on a broom
as Harry had come to find out though he had been quick to reassure the blonde
that he was just as skilled as he, Harry, was.
“HARRY JAMES POTTER!” Came the furious shout from Hermione Granger. Harry
winced at the ensuing lecture. He looked up and saw her stalking forward with a
mix of relief, anger and disapproving on her face. An odd mix really but Harry
didn’t think about that as she came forward. “What were you thinking! Pulling
such dangerous stunts, you could have hurt yourself or worse!” She was now
standing in front of him shaking a finger at him like she was scolding a
disobedient child.
Repressing the sudden flare of irritation he clamped down on his control and
ground out calmly: “Hermione you know that Quidditch and flying are both
dangerous and just because I like to pull outrageous stunts doesn’t mean
anything. Besides I’m fine, not injured at all.” He gave her a small strained
smile.
“He’s right Mione, he’s fine no harm done,” Ron said coming up beside them.
Turning to Harry his eyes brightened. “That was bloody brilliant though Harry!”
he exclaimed. Hermione scowled at the two before she sighed at the smile Harry
gave Ron. She couldn’t stay too mad at her black haired friend when he smiled
like that. Those smiles were far and in between lately; those bright, heart-
melting smiles that he didn’t give nearly as often anymore.
Others came over after that to comment on Harry’s little stunt, inquiring as to
how he did it and whatnot. When he finally slipped away from the crowd he
glanced around for sight of that silver blonde hair. He remembered he had
wanted to talk to the Slytherin and now he looked around the pitch for sight of
him.
“Come on Harry lets head to lunch,” Ron was saying and tugging Harry’s sleeve
lightly to urge him forward. Harry stumbled a bit before walking with Ron,
Hermione and Neville. He kept glancing around for Draco very keen to talk with
the blonde. Sighing he looked to the ground as he walked. He had to find a way
to talk to Draco; he really needed the Slytherins advice at the moment or at
least for him to confirm his suspicions.
Eyes on the ground he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings and therefore
didn’t see the thing he collided with. From the yelp and grunt he heard it was
obviously a person that he walked into. From his sprawled position on top of
the other person he looked down and saw the very person he had been thinking
about. Draco looked briefly shocked, a light pink flush coming to his pale
cheeks before covering it up and throwing Harry an annoyed look.
“I need to talk to you. Meet you later after dinner, your room.” Harry
whispered quickly before scrambling off the blonde.
“Watch where you’re going Potter you blind arsehole!” Draco sneered
effectively, jerking his head once in a show of acknowledgement to Harry.
“People walk here Malfoy you shouldn’t be standing around like you own the
bloody path,” Harry snapped glaring at the blonde for good measure.
“Yeah Malfoy it’s not Harry’s fault you’re a prat whose stuck too far up his
own arse!” Ron said also glaring at the blonde.
“No one was talking to you Weasel,” Draco spat at Ron lips curled in a sneer.
He looked back at Harry and glared harder and abruptly turned on his foot,
stalking away, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle behind him.
“Who does that bloody git think he is? He was the one standing there in the way
of where people walk,” Ron complained as the four Gryffindors began walking
again.
“Ron you have to admit though that he’s been less of a prat then usual this
year. I mean he hardly ever insults us and never starts fights,” Hermione said
looking after the blonde’s retreating back curiously.
“She’s right Ron,” Harry said making his voice sound thoughtful as he kept
walking. He had spent as little time as possible thinking of his friends
reactions to his friendship with the blonde Slytherin.
‘They’re right Ron, I mean he hasn’t even bothered ME this year and that’s
something,” Neville pointed out.
“He’s still a right slimy prat,” Ron grumbled looking from Hermione to Harry to
Neville with wide eyes. “You can’t seriously be…what are you guys saying?”
“Just that he doesn’t pick on me as much if ever anymore this year.” Neville
said hastily throwing the redhead a quick look.
“I’m just saying he’s not being as much of a nuisance as before,” Hermione said
calmly looking at her boyfriend and shrugging. “Maybe he’s matured or
something, Granted he is still annoying when he wants to be.”
“But he’s leaving us alone basically right? So what’s the fuss about,” Harry
asked, desperately wanting to get off this subject. He knew that Draco wasn’t
as horrible, really, as they had all thought and didn’t want to say something
to make the others suspicious.
“Right, as long as the nasty little ferret leaves us alone we shouldn’t worry
about him,” Ron said with a smile as they walked into the Great Hall for lunch.
Harry bit back a sigh as the conversation ended. He really didn’t want to see
their reactions when they found out he was friends with Draco. Sighing he
decided to push those thoughts out of his head. He had other things to worry
about and couldn’t wait to see the blonde later. He felt a brief twinge of
guilt for wanting to talk to Draco and not his friends about his problems but
pushed it aside. He didn’t think they would understand anyway.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
 
Later that night after dinner was over Harry had made his way back to the tower
and gathered his invisibility cloak and the Map, made his excuses of needing to
be alone for a bit and left the tower again. Now safely nestled under the
cloak, map in hand, he was making his way to Draco’s rooms. He passed few
people on his way towards the blonde’s rooms and when he finally stood in front
of the portrait to the room he knocked quickly on the frame of the picture
disturbing the dragon in the frame. The dragon looked up curiously but not
seeing anyone put its head back down closing its eyes. He quickly deactivated
the map and stuffed it in his back pocket. The portrait opened and Draco looked
out a look of confusion on his face at the sight of no one there. Harry pulled
off his cloak and looked to Draco who inhaled sharply at the sudden appearance.
Harry smirked before brushing past him and making his way inside. Draco closed
the door before turning to look at Harry with wide eyes.
Looking mildly amused at the blonde's reactions Harry smiled at the blonde,
holding up the material in his hands. “Invisibility cloak got it Christmas of
first year. It was my fathers,” Harry answered as Draco came over to touch the
cloak reverently.
“Wicked,” Draco breathed running his hand over the material. “Even Lucius
doesn’t have one, or at least not one he’s told me about.” Draco said not even
noticing he said ‘Lucius’ instead of ‘Father’ before looking at Harry and
narrowing his eyes. “That was you in third year then. I had been wondering how
you did that.” Draco said smirking at him.
“Now you know,” Harry said shortly as the other boy sat down across from him in
his usual chair as Harry sprawled himself out on the couch. “I needed to talk
to you.”
“As I remember after you fell on top of me,” Draco drawled raising an eyebrow
at the black haired boy.
“That was an accident,” Harry said slightly defensively. “Anyway what I needed
to talk to you about. I – er – shagged Cho last night see and this morning and
through most of the day I’ve had this uneasy feeling, especially if I look at
her. I’m not sure but I think I’m really missing something here and I’ve
possibly set myself up for something bad,” Harry said without taking a breath.
He looked to Draco who was looking at him blankly.
“You shagged Chang last night?” Draco asked and his face looked quite
unreadable and his voice was almost indifferent.
“Er, yeah, see she invited me to her room early in the day and I basically knew
what she would most likely want to do. But I had this uneasy feeling before I
went into her room, which had nothing to with having sex with her, really,
considering I had had sex this summer but then I had the feeling this morning
also after leaving her room. It’s been there all day really,” he was rambling
and he knew it and when he finally looked up to Draco he looked the blonde in
the eye; emerald locking with silvery grey. “What do think?”
Draco looked at Harry nothing showing on his face but he felt extremely jealous
and upset at the thought of Harry and Chang having sex. Of Chang putting her
filthy hands on Harry at all made him want to either throw up or curse Chang
something nasty. The latter being the more preferred choice in his mind. But
should he really tell Harry what he thought? What if his friend got upset at
him? Steeling himself he decided that Harry had asked what he thought and no
matter the outcome he was going to tell the black haired boy what he thought.
“Well,” he said at last looking at Harry thoughtfully, masking his caution that
he felt. “I think – this is only a suspicion, now – that Chang might not be all
sweet in her attentions to you. I believe she’s got some ulterior motive and if
like you said, you slept with her last night and she hasn’t bragged about it
yet I think she might be planning something a bit bigger. But its only
suspicion,” Draco said being honest while still being cautious. He knew all of
Harry’s control sometimes slipped if he was extremely angry or emotional in
anyway.
Harry was silent for a moment before nodding his head slowly and licking his
lips, not noticing Draco’s eyes following the movement. Looking back to the
blonde he sighed. “I thought something was off but I…” he trailed off and
gestured with his hands lightly shaking his head. “I thought it was just the
hype of getting a piece of the “Boy-Who-Lived” and all that.” He said making
air quotes on his title. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” he asked
looking at Draco with a raised eyebrow.
Draco sighed and bit his lip trying to think about what to say so as not to
come off sounding like a sentimental twat. Looking anywhere but at Harry he
sighed again. “I didn’t know if you would believe me and figured why risk it,”
Draco said with a careless shrug trying to brush it off. Harry looked at him
oddly before a look of understanding crossed his face.
“You were worried about upsetting me,” there was a hint of surprise in his tone
as he spoke like he couldn’t quite believe it himself.
“Of course not!” Draco snapped, looking Harry as close in the eyes as he could.
“Yes you were,” Harry said smiling at the blonde’s discomfort. “Admit it Malfoy
you were worried about my reaction!”
Draco glared at him head on lips curled in a sneer. “No I wasn’t,” he snarled.
“Yes you were!”
“I wasn’t!”
“You were!”
“I w – oh for Merlin’s sake,” Draco spat throwing his hands up in exasperation.
“I was alright, are you happy?” he snapped.
“Yes I am,” Harry said smiling as Draco glared harder at him. “I’m glad to know
that our friendship means something to you also.” Draco looked momentarily
startled at this statement and was speechless for a moment just staring at
Harry who continued to smile that sweet little smile at him. “But back to the
subject at hand,” Harry said turning serious again. “I should have listened to
my bloody instincts when they started flaring up.”
“What do you mean?” Draco asked finally snapping out of his daze. Harry
explained how he got the same feeling before stepping into the Great Hall on
the first of February when Voldemort sent him that human heart. Draco had
quirked an eyebrow as this and looked as Harry oddly.
“These wouldn’t happen to be the same instincts that tell you to break school
rules and whatnot are they?” the blonde asked with a smirk on his face.
“Prat,” Harry grumbled glaring half-heartedly at the blonde nuisance across
from him. But there was a smile peeking through his scowl so Draco knew he
wasn’t serious this time. “Anyway, I should be looking out for anything to
happen over the next few days’ right?” Harry asked looking at the blonde.
“Yes,” Draco said nodding his head. “I think if she’s up to something that it
will most likely happen in the next few days. I’m a Slytherin though and can
tell a scheme when someone’s got one.”
Harry nodded as he checked his watch and stood up from the couch grabbing his
invisibility cloak. “I thought she might be up to something also. I guess great
minds think alike,” Harry said walking towards the door.
“What do you mean by that?” Draco asked as Harry swung the cloak around
himself, all except his head disappearing.
Smirking at his blonde friend wickedly Harry said: “The Hat wanted to put me in
Slytherin, you know,” he said matter-of-factly. “Great minds think alike
Malfoy.” And with that Harry pulled the cloak over his head, opened the door
and walked out closing the portrait behind him leaving a stunned Draco Malfoy
standing there looking at where he had stood in speechless shock.
Harry Potter, Draco thought shaking his head when he finally snapped out of it.
You never cease to amaze me!
***** Public Viewing, Humiliation and Hiding and a Concerned Blonde *****

Author's notes: Check chapter 1
===============================================================================
AN1: Okay, I would like to let you all know that some of the days will be
changed in the story. Nothing big just refer to this site for the dates I’m
using for the story: http://www.timeanddate.com/calendar/
index.html?year=1997&country=9. Just check 1996-1997 to know what the days are.
I’ll fix them in the story after a bit. So this is the timeline we’re talking
about:
Dec. 23 – which is a Monday according to the 1996 UK calendar – is the day
students leave for Christmas. Jan. 5, 1997 – a Sunday, the students return –
and Jan. 6 is the day classes resume. Jan. 17 – a Friday, is the Slytherin/
Ravenclaw match. Feb. 1 – Saturday, is the day Harry receives that bloody heart
from Voldemort. Feb. 10 – Monday, is the day the announcement for the dance is
made. The dance is on Feb. 14 – Friday. Feb. 17 – Monday, is the day Cho asks
out Harry. Feb. 22 is the day of their date, which is a Saturday. Mar. 7 – a
Friday, is the day Harry and Cho shag and Mar. 9 – is Sunday, the day the
article comes out in Witch Weekly.
For future dates check out the site above but I’ll keep everyone informed.
AN2: This chapter has masturbation in it and if that offends anyone you might
want to skip over it. Since I don’t know if FF.net will take this down for that
scene you can all catch it on the sites listed on my profile. The usernames are
listed as well. Also this story will be considered AU with the release of HBP.
I haven’t read it yet but have seen spoilers from others on it. So saying that,
this story I think will be considered AU, at least mostly. I might include some
stuff from book six, not sure yet. This will be post-OotP and pre-HBP. And now
on to the story!!!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 15: Public Viewing, Humiliation and Hiding and a Concerned Blonde
Leaving the tower that morning with his friends and heading to the Great Hall
Harry was filled with an unease that rivaled yesterdays. His stomach was
clenching in an incomprehensible apprehension worst than the first of February.
Licking his lips, mask firmly in place he walked into the Great Hall for
breakfast and sat down at his spot at the Gryffindor table. The feeling in his
stomach was taking away any appetite he had but he put some on his plate anyway
and ate it just the same not wanting to draw suspicion. He didn’t even taste
the food as he chewed it and swallowed. One hand covering half his face he
mechanically ate the food, tense and alert for something to happen. He engaged
in conversation with his friends in an automatic mode. Glancing up he looked at
the Slytherin table which he had unconsciously sat to face and scanned the
table casually for that familiar and unique blonde hair. Seeing it he quirked
an eyebrow when he caught Draco’s eyes before turning back to his plate.
The flutter of wings alerted him to the arrival of the morning mail and his
unease and apprehension went into a full blown attack on his stomach. Eyes
fixed on the birds flying into the Hall he absently pushed his plate away as
panic began to rise up in him. Surely, Cho wouldn’t have done anything to
publicly humiliate him? As owls started dropping the mail to they’re recipients
Harry’s panic upped a notch. Swallowing around the lump in his throat that
seemed to have taken permanent residence there he calmly as possible brought
his orange juice up to his lips to drink. When he heard the gasps and the
exclamations he closed his eyes having a feeling that whatever it was about it
had something to do with him.
“Oh my,” Hermione whispered across from him, her voice sounding shocked.
“Harry…” she trailed off and Harry looked up into her wide brown eyes. She
looked back down at what was in her hands before turning it to him. Harry gaped
at the front page before clamping his jaw tightly shut, face going red from
embarrassment and anger.
 
           *Witch Weekly Exclusive: Harry Potter ‘The Boy-Who-Lived’
                  And what all you single ladies want to know
                       From the personal experience of
                                  Cho Chang!*
Harry looked up feeling completely mortified as he heard the whispered
conversations about the article.
“Merlin, it even has pictures of him shirtless...”
“Completely naked too…though his bits were blurred out...”
“Oh look! It even has a description of his...”
Harry reddened further if possible and bit his lip as the people started
staring, leering at him. Turning around he looked to the Ravenclaw table, more
importantly Cho and saw her talking and giggling with a bunch of other girls.
When the girl next to her tapped her shoulder and pointed in his direction Cho
looked up and gave him a deceptively sweet smile, eyes glinting smugly. She
even had the nerve to blow him a kiss! Face flushed with anger and
embarrassment but trying and halfway succeeding in looking impassive, knowing
he had many eyes on him, he stood and as calmly as possible strode from the
Great Hall running once he was out of sight of the entrance.
He ran all the way to the tower, choked out the password and ran inside up to
his dorm. He couldn’t deal with this, not today, not any day really, but he
couldn’t deal with the stares and questions right now. Grabbing his backpack
that was stuffed with some of his things, he grabbed the Marauders Map and he
threw on the invisibility cloak, spelled the curtain to be inaccessible to
those outside of it to give him time to get where he wanted and left the dorm.
He didn’t want to deal with anything or anyone right now, not even Ron and
Hermione. Getting to the portrait he moved out of the way just in time as it
burst open and the two people he was just thinking about came rushing in. as
they rushed past his invisible form he slipped out the closing portrait.
Pulling in a deep breath he collected himself a bit and walked away from
Gryffindor tower. He had one place in mind to go and knew that no one would
find him there. His secret rooms; Salazar Slytherin’s rooms.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Draco couldn’t believe it even seeing it and almost predicting it he still
couldn’t believe it! Cho had told all she knew about that encounter with Harry
the other night, right down to the size and description of his…well. Draco was
a bit flustered as he read Pansy’s copy of Witch Weekly and made a decision to
steal one from a younger year. He forced himself to smirk at the plight of
Harry Potter when someone commented on Potter being taken down a peg. Looking
up he caught sight of the black haired boy leaving the Hall and bit his lip. He
wanted to go after him because, yes, he was concerned. There was no dismissing
that fact. But he held himself in check from years of Malfoy training under his
bastard of a father. He joined in on the taunting and jeering of his housemates
feeling like a prat for laughing and saying some of the things he said.
Standing up he walked towards a younger year and snatched a copy of the
magazine from her hands with a snarled, “Give me that!” firmly ignoring her
glare and sulky expression. With a smirk at his housemates who stood to follow
him he turned and stalked from the Great Hall with a small swagger to his hips.
He didn’t think Harry would be showing his face for awhile considering how red
it had been. And if he knew Harry, which he thought he did pretty well by now,
than the Golden Boy who wasn’t so golden, Draco knew would be hiding out
somewhere no one would or could find. With a sigh he headed to the common room
as he knew it would be expected of him to make comments about the article with
his housemates but once that was done he was going to his room, intent to
peruse the article in the magazine privately.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Minerva McGonagall couldn’t believe her eyes. In all her years as a teacher she
had never seen what she was now reading. Having demanded a copy from a student
of her house she had leaned over to Albus and shared the article with the old
Headmaster. She’d known Harry Potter to get himself into many a mess before but
this was the icing on the cake! Looking to Albus she saw that even he looked
surprised by this turn of events. Looking across the Great Hall the old witch
saw that a slow building of chaos was starting. Girls were running from table
to table chatting and giggling with other girls, the whispering was getting
louder; from the sound like the buzz of a hundred bees too a low key roar, the
volume was getting louder.
Minerva looked to the Ravenclaw table and pinpointed Cho Chang out immediately.
She was swamped by girls and some guys who all seemed to be gushing over her
and gesturing to the magazines they held. Looking closely she looked at Cho’s
face thinking the girl must be as mortified as her student, who she had seen
leaving the law. What she saw though made her lips thin into a line as she
pursed them and caused her eyebrow to scrunch together. The 7th Ravenclaw
looked happy, even smug as she gloated and preened among the masses of
students.
“Albus,” she said sharply turning her eyes to the older man. “You must do
something!” she hissed glaring frantically around the Hall.
Dumbledore looked at the article and shook his head sighing a bit. This wasn’t
something Harry needed right now. Harry deserved any and all privacy he could
get and this was just wrong. Sighing again he looked to Minerva. “Breakfast is
over anyway, we will send the students to do what they going to do for the
day.” He said looking around the Hall.
“What about Potter and Chang? Did you see the look on her face?” Minerva asked,
her old face flushing a bit in her anger.
Dumbledore looked to the Ravenclaw table, looked to Cho Chang and saw what his
transfiguration professor was talking about. The girl was still looking smug
and smirking as she conversed with the others around her. Dumbledore narrowed
his eyes as he thought what this little bit of information could mean. He
looked back to Minerva. “Call both Ms. Chang and Mr. Potter to my office
Minerva,” he said as he stood up. “I believe breakfast is over,” he said to the
now quiet Hall. “Go about your day everyone! Ms. Chang if you will follow me to
my office?” he said before stepping down from the teachers table and making his
way from the Hall.
Minerva watched with a guilty bit of satisfaction as that Chang girl paled
slightly before recovering her composure and standing from the table, also
making her way from the Hall.
“Seems Potter’s found another way to garner attention,” a silky voice sneered
from beside her. Looking up she looked into the black fathomless gaze of her
colleague, Severus Snape and felt like sneering herself almost.
“I don’t think Potter is behind this Severus and you really need to let that
grudge you have go and stop acting like a child!” She snapped glaring at the
black haired man and standing from her seat to collect Harry from where she
thought he may be, Gryffindor Tower. She looked at Severus and saw his face
flush red in what she gathered was anger, his glare enough to make a lesser
person cower. She didn’t bother to give him time to respond and turned on her
heel and stalked from the slowly dwindling mass of the Great Hall. She didn’t
have time for a bitter man with petty grudges.
She made her way swiftly to the tower, her strides purposeful and set. She
absently clutched her robes as she made her way thinking about the things that
happened within the last month. First Harry had received that awful package on
the first of February; a bleeding heart said to be in honor of his mother and
now this! The boy poor boy, she thought. She knew the boy never had any real
privacy, knew he wouldn’t the moment he had received that title but this was
atrocious. How someone could slander the boy like he was shown today, she
didn’t know. And she had a feeling that Chang girl had something to do with it.
She sniffed as she continued her brisk pace. She didn’t condone casual sex as
the children of the last few years seemed to be fond of but she knew hormones
ran rampant and that having all these teenagers in the castle was bound to
result in them having sexual acts among each other. It’s happened since she’s
been teaching and she knew it would continue to happen. Making it to the
portrait of the Fat Lady she barked out the password ignoring the “How Rude!”
that came from the portraits inhabitant and strode into the common room.
Looking around she saw Ron and Hermione sitting on one of the couches
anxiously, talking to each other. She strode over to them briskly. “Weasley,
Granger,” she said as they looked up. “Is Potter in the dorm?”
They exchanged a look before Ron spoke up. “His curtains on his bed are spelled
shut and he wouldn’t answer when we called him but we thinks he’s up there,”
Ron said nervously glancing towards the stairs.
“We tried spelling them open but the locking charm is one we can’t counter,”
Hermione said, a bit of confusion and frustration coming through her worried
tone.
Minerva pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes before stalking towards the
stairs that lead to the boys dorms. “The Headmaster wants to see him so he will
have to come out,” she said over her shoulder as she strode up the stairs. She
could hear Ron and Hermione following behind her but ignored them as she made
her way to the sixth year boy’s dorm. Walking into the room she made her way
over to the one four poster with closed curtains.
“Potter?” she asked as she came to the curtains. “Potter answer me, the
Headmaster wishes to see you!” she snapped when no answer came. Sighing in
frustration she pulled out her wand and went about casting unlocking charms on
the curtains. When none of the easier unlocking charms worked she huffed
quietly before trying another one. This one worked as the curtains glowed very
faintly. Pocketing her wand she grasped the curtains in her hands and pulled
them open. The bed was empty of any sign of Harry Potter. Looking briefly
confused she continued to stare at the bed before scowling. She turned towards
her two Gryffindors. “He’s not here,” she said looking at the two students in
front of her. “Did you see him leave?”
“No, when we came back here we checked his bed which had its curtains locked.
We didn’t see him leave,” Hermione said as Ron and she exchanged another look.
Minerva pursed her lips and looked annoyed.
“You didn’t see him at all?” she asked and the two shook they’re heads again.
She looked at them closely before decided that they were telling the truth.
“Well then,” she said as she turned on her heel and began to head back towards
the door. “If you see him let him know immediately that the Headmaster wishes
to have a word with him,” she said as she walked out the door. She decided to
head to the Headmasters office and tell him of this development and see what he
may suggest.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Back in the dorm Ron and Hermione waited in silence for a moment as McGonagall
left. Once they were sure there Head of House was gone Hermione turned to Ron.
“Do you think he even came back here?” Ron asked as Hermione looked at him, her
confusion and worry evident.
“I don’t know,” Hermione said kneeling down to Harry’s trunk. She grasped the
lid and yanked it open and began rummaging through the contents. She could hear
the common room filling up as the students came in and searched more
frantically.
“Do you think you should really be going through his stuff Mione?” Ron asked
nervously as he watched what his girlfriend was doing.
“Ronald,” she said in that tone of voice as she continued to search. “After
what happened this morning and with Harry not being here like we thought he
could be anywhere. What happened was humiliating,” she said and then let out a
groan of frustration. “Its not here, his cloak, its not here,” she rambled as
she searched a bit more.
“What about the map?” he asked looking to the door where he could here people
coming up.
“No, no, no” she chanted as she gave a huff and shut the trunk. “Neither are in
there he must have slipped out under the cloak and took the map with him.” She
said just as the other occupants of the dorm came in. She threw Ron another
worried look and she bit her lip.
“Hey Hermione what are you doing up her?” Dean asked as he sat on the floor in
front of his trunk and began going through it.
“McGonagall wanted to speak to Harry and I came up here with Ron to get him,”
she said as she sat down on top of Harry’s trunk.
“How is Harry? After what happened this morning he must be feeling awful,”
Neville said sitting on his own bed.
“He wasn’t in here and we don’t know where he is,” Ron said with a sigh.
“What do you mean?” Seamus asked looking from Ron to Hermione with wide eyes.
“Exactly that,” Hermione said. “We don’t know where he is. When we came to find
him his curtains were closed and locked with a spell and we couldn’t open them.
We had thought he was there but ignoring us. McGonagall came to get him for the
Headmaster but when she got the curtains open he wasn’t there,” she explained
with a small shrug.
“Do you know where he might be? Maybe we could go look for him,” Neville said.
Ron looked at his girlfriend and shrugged.
“It’s worth a try,” he said.
“Come on Neville lets you; I and Ron see if we can’t find him, I know a few
places he may be.” Hermione said as she stood from the trunk.
“You guys want more help?” Dean asked looking up from the book in his hands.
“No, you two staying in the common room?” she asked.
“No heading to the library,” Seamus answered.
“You guys see if he’s there while you’re at it. If he is tell him the
Headmaster wants him,” she said and the two boys nodded before she, Ron and
Neville left the room to start they’re search for they’re friend.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Draco was leaning back against the pillows of his bed in his room, the Witch
Weekly magazine he had taken from that girl in his lap. He had just left his
housemates in the common room where they had spent sometime bad-mouthing Harry.
Flashback
Walking into the Slytherin common room Draco sat in his customary chair
smirking for all he was worth while inside he felt guilty. Sending a silent
apology to Harry wherever he was he turned to his housemates mask in place.
“Did you see the way Potter fled the hall?” Pansy laughed as she sat in a
chair, eyes alight with mirth.
“Talk about the brave Gryffindor,” Millicent Bulstrode guffawed from her seat.
“Yes, it was about time Potter got humiliated for something. Probably off to
hide away like a coward now,” Draco drawled forcing a smooth and easy chuckle
from his throat.
“Who knew Chang had it in her though? This little stunt was worthy of a
Slytherin and she did look pretty smug about the article.” Blaise said
thoughtfully.
“Your right Blaise,” Theodore Nott said nodding his head of brown hair. “Potter
probably didn’t even see it coming being the Golden Boy Gryffindor that he is.”
Draco smirked at this but not for the reasons any of the Slytherins might have
thought. He was smirking because he knew Harry had a bit of Slytherin
tendencies and that he had seen at least some kind of disaster coming. Maybe
not this type of trouble but he was aware of something coming. And Draco also
knew Harry wasn’t as golden as many thought him to be.
“You almost sound sorry for him Nott,” a voice like warm velvet said. Draco
barely held himself from wincing but did tense a bit. That voice he knew
belonged to Morgan Ennis one of the coldest female Slytherins. She was a
seventh year and related to Augustus Rookwood by her mother who was Rookwood’s
sister. It was also known that she wasn’t too fond of Theodore as she thought
him to be weak and a disgrace to his family. The room went silent at her
statement.
“I’m not,” Theodore snapped. “I’m just saying that the little half-blood
probably didn’t see it coming.” His voice was steady as he looked Ennis in the
eye. She stared back at him with dark eyes and gave him a sneer but said
nothing more.
End Flashback
Not long after that Draco had taken his leave and headed to his room. Now he
was here in the privacy of his room perusing the magazine. It had Chang’s
description of the night, or at least the shagging. There were also pictures of
Harry in different states of undress. Looking at the pictures closely he had to
admire Harry’s form. He was lithe and lightly muscled, a little on the thin
side but other than that he had an attractive body. Draco felt himself flush as
he imagined what that body would feel like pressed up against his, rubbing
against his, thrusting against his. Biting his bottom lip he cupped his half-
hard erection with his hand and put pressure on it, rubbing his cock lightly.
Glancing at the picture of Harry’s naked body, the important bits blurred out,
he cursed softly and set the magazine aside and began unzipping his pants and
pulling them down onto his thighs.
Clutching his now fully hard cock he began to stroke himself firmly but slowly.
Closing his eyes he pictured Harry standing in front of him, back to a wall and
running his hands up and down his own body. He moaned as he pictured the black
haired boy closing his eyes and tilting his head back, arching that slim throat
of his as he cupped his erection through his jeans.
Squeezing his cock lightly he imagined Harry popping the button on his jeans
and taking hold of the zipper of his jeans and pulling it down slowly,
teasingly as he opened his eyes and looked at him with a smirk, green eyes
glinting wickedly. Breath coming heavier he rose from his reclined position and
took a kneeling one. Pushing his pants down further he took his other hand and
cupped his balls, rolling them gently in his hand.
He imagined Harry sliding his pants down over his arse and then his thighs
before letting them rest around his ankles. Having pulled his boxers down with
them all Harry had to do was take hold of his hard cock and he did and began
stroking himself lightly. He imagined Harry moaning at the feel of his hand on
his own cock and Draco bit his bottom lip hard as a moan reverberated through
his chest.
Head lolling to the side he squinted his eyes open and they fell on his night
stand. Making a quick decision he let go of his erection and leaned over to the
nightstand, opened the drawer and pulled out a tube of lubricant. Coating two
of his fingers in the substance he laid back on his bed bending one knee up and
guiding his fingers to his entrance as his other hand took hold of his cock
again. Circling his entrance with one finger lightly, he squeezed his erection
before inserting the digit into himself slowly. Moaning loudly he stroked his
cock as he thrust his finger into himself.
He imagined Harry panting from his arousal as he stroked himself, lips parted
and glistening from when he wetted them with his tongue. Draco groaned, the
pictures his mind was producing sending flames of pleasures to lick his skin.
Inserting his second finger he let out a cry as pleasure rippled through him.
Thrusting his fingers inside himself he tried to find that place inside him
that would give him even more pleasure. When he found it he let out a near
scream as he thrust his fingers against it, massaged his prostate with the tips
of his fingers a bit before repeating the process, all the while stroking his
aching need. As he imagined Harry opening his eyes and piercing him with that
intense stare with those green eyes, stroking his rock hard cock he came. His
orgasm slammed into him hard, his back arched off the bed, his mouth fell open
in a loud cry as he shot his seed onto his stomach.
Once spent he was gasping, eyes closed and lips parted as he tried to regain
his breathing. He opened his eyes still panting lightly and sighed as he sat
up. He took in a deep breath before rising from the bed. He shook his head as
his thoughts went to what he’d just done. He’d just gotten off to pictures of
his friend and said friend had been completely humiliated in front of the whole
school not even two hours ago. There had been very few times when Draco felt
ashamed of himself or things he’d done and this was one of those times. With a
grimace he padded into the bathroom to wash away the shame and the evidence of
it.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
(AN: this will go back a bit too just as Harry enters his secret room)
Harry got to his secret room without any problems, hissed out the password and
went through the opening. Walking into the large common room he flopped down
onto the plush green couch. He dropped into the chair and stared at the empty
fireplace apathetically. He ignored the hissed questions from the runespoor
portrait above. He just stared into the barren fireplace.
He knew many people would want him only for the fact that he was the Boy-Who-
Lived. He had known this since 2nd year though, when it became obvious that to
many people he was the Boy-Who-Lived over being just Harry Potter. It was only
painfully obvious when people turned on him for thinking he was the heir of
Slytherin, isolated him, and stared at him with hate and fear. But the second
he was found out to be innocent, to not be the heir he was liked and fawned
over with awe again. It was the same in 4th year when his name came out of the
Goblet of Fire. Half the school turned against him including his best friend
Ron.
Ron’s jealousy showed through that year and to Harry, no matter how much he
tried to deny it and ignore it, it showed that at least a part of Ron saw him
as being more the Boy-Who-Lived than just Harry. He remembered the spark of
bitterness he saw in Ron’s eyes that first night after his name came from the
Goblet. Ron had wanted to know why Harry hadn’t included him in on how to get
his name into the Goblet and his bitterness and jealousy shown through more
than anything that day. And while Ron had apologized for his behavior and Harry
had accepted it he hadn’t been able to keep the traitorous thought of “but will
it happen again, Ron? Will you turn on me again when my fame comes into play?”
from invading his mind.
And when he slept with Cho he had been well aware that it was probably more to
do with his Boy-Who-Lived status than anything else. And he had accepted it
with a certain amount of bitterness and resignation. But he hadn’t expected
this! An article on the whole sordid exploit in one of the most read wizarding
tabloids. A tabloid almost the whole of the female population of Hogwarts
received and many of the magical population as a whole. He could have dealt
with her gloating it around the school though it would have been no less
humiliating. But this was more than just a hundred students or whatever. This
was a large portion of the magical world. He had to breathe deeply to keep
himself from panicking or getting angrier than he was.
He could feel his anger rising as he thought about it and stood from his seat.
He immediately began to pace in front of the fireplace. Four steps one way stop
and turn and four steps the other. He was trying to calm himself down, to cut
off the build up of rage that was threatening to overtake him. He could feel
his magic stirring around him and within him. Inhaling deeply he held it,
turned, paced four steps and let it out slowly. The tension eased a bit but not
enough.
“Harry_your_glowing!” The hissed exclamation from the left head of the snake,
Atropos, said.
“He’s_not_glowing,” Erinyes hissed scathingly. “He’s_got_sparks_coming_off_of
him!”
“She’s_right_you_know,” Morpheus hissed quietly, calmly. “Its_more_like_sparks
than_a_glow.”
Harry had stopped his pacing, startled, at the comments coming from the
portrait. Raising his arms he looked down at the bare skin – he was wearing
short sleeves – and saw what the runespoor was talking about. He had tiny
lightning bolts of red, green, brown, white, silver and grey crackling up and
down his arms. Looking down at the rest of his body he noticed that even over
his clothes he could see the same colored lightning bolts arcing on his body.
Distracted from his previous troubles he stared at himself opened-mouth and
wide eyed.
“What’s happening to me?” He whispered as he watched the bolts twist around
each other and jump from finger tip to finger tip. He was mesmerized and
frightened at the same time. He didn’t remember this ever happening to him
before and he’d been angry plenty of times before. He noticed as he looked on
closely that the sparks weren’t touching his skin but was moving above the
skin. Reaching a hand to touch his other arm he hesitated briefly before
attempting to probe a bolt that was arcing up his forearm. The dual colored
bolt arched from his arm to his finger and traveled up the new arm with a soft
‘zip’ sound and a tiny sting.
“Salazar_used_to_do_that,” Erinyes stated.
“He_would_say_that_he_was_leaking_magic,” Morpheus said.
Harry looked up at the portrait and stared at the three-headed snake a moment.
The words took just a second longer than necessary to register but Harry was
shocked from two previous events and one couldn’t expect him to catch onto
everything quickly. “Salazar_Slytherin…leaked_magic?_What_do_you_mean?” He
asked.
“When_he_got..._angry,,,_he_would_have_sparks_coming_off_him_like_you_do_now,”
Atropos said. “Though_the_colors_around_him_if_I_remember_correctly_had_been
red,_yellow,_grey,_gold,_and_silver_I_believe.”
As Harry talked to the runespoor his anger had slowly dissipated as his
curiosity took over. When he looked back down at himself the sparks had
disappeared. Looking back up at the portrait he said: “Did_Salazar_ever_say
anything_about_him_leaking_magic?_Why_it_happens?_Anything?”
“Not_really_say,” Morpheus said as he looked down at Harry. “He_tended_to_speak
–_as_you_would_say_–_our_language_when_agitated._He_would_pace_and_rant._Talk
about_excessive_emotion_and_magic,_controlling_it_and_such._We_don’t_know_much
but_you_can_always_check_the_library.” Morpheus looked at the other two heads
at this and they bobbed their heads in agreement.
“Now,” Erinyes said seeming to drawl as it hissed. It always amused and
disturbed Harry a bit when she would talk like that. “Are_you_going_to_tell_us
what_had_you_so_angry_when_you_came_in_here?”
Harry looked at the portrait of the runespoor for a moment, blankly, before
coming back to himself. He frowned and gritted his teeth. He frowned again
looking thoughtful. He had known that something was going to happen even if he
hadn’t imagined anything of this magnitude. Now that he had calmed down he
could look at it clearly and he realized that while he was incredibly angry
about it he had expected something. Deep down he had expected something big and
definitely humiliating but he hadn’t thought of it being more public than the
school. Sighing he gave the portrait a bitter smile. “It’s_nothing_you_three,
just_an_incident_with_a_smug,_vain,_petty_bint_who_doesn’t_even_matter._For_now
though,” Harry said with a smile that wasn’t quite as bitter. “I’ve_got_a_bit
of_a_research_to_do.” With that he turned and left the sitting room, heading to
the library connected to the room through the door on the right.
He didn’t leave those rooms at all that day.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
After leaving the tower Minerva had made her way to the Headmasters office and
informed him about Harry’s missing status. Dumbledore, confident Harry was
still within the school or at least on the grounds, had passed along the
message for the portraits and ghosts to keep an eye out for him. But he wasn’t
seen the rest of the day or that night which had many of the professors,
excluding Severus, worried over his absence as well as his friends when they
couldn’t find him anywhere either. Draco was mildly worried about Harry’s
absence also but knew Harry was off somewhere where no one could find him. He
knew Harry would reappear when he was ready to and not until. And while all
this was going on the school was overrun with gossip and talk on the article.
It was an interesting Sunday in Hogwarts.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
AN: Okay everybody I have a few things to add to this. The colors of the sparks
on Harry and what the colors mean: I’m using information from: A Complete Guide
to Magic and Ritual by Cassandra Eason. Some things, if there are any who have
read or will read the book, have been tweaked a bit to fit my purpose but the
information source belongs to Cassandra Eason.
White: The color of divinity and the life force. It represents light, vitality
and boundless energy.
Black: The color of not only death, but also of regeneration. It represents
marking the boundaries of the past and moving forward towards the future.
Red: A color in many traditions that represents blood or the essence of life.
The color can also represent power, physical energy and determination, along
with courage when facing opposition and change under difficult circumstances.
Orange: The color of fertility, whether personal or to bring a project to
fruition and to find personal happiness.
Yellow: Traditionally the color of the mind and communication and has sometimes
been associated with jealousy and treachery. It can also represent intellectual
achievement, learning and travel, along with facing mental challenges or when
it is important to express your self clearly or to change location.
Green: The color of the heart, love and emotions. Has an association with the
garden and growth.
Blue: Is the ‘healing’ color and the color of the spirit. It is the color of
conventional wisdom and limitless possibilities. Blue can expand the
possibilities in boundaries and create confidence. Blue can also be for
idealism when dealing with officialdom and when seeking justice.
Purple: Purple provides a link with higher dimension, with nobility of spirit
and with inspirations. Purple can also represent when you need to trust you
inner voice and for psychic development and spiritual strength.
Brown: The color of the Earth and the Earth spirits. Rich, vibrant brown
represents rooted power and instinctive wisdom. It is also the color of
affinity with the natural world and acts as a protective force.
Pink: Represent the gentler aspects of love and kindness. It is also the color
of reconciliation and harmony and can induce quiet sleep.
Grey: The shade of compromise and adaptability. It is also the color of
invisibility and protection against psychic attacks.
Gold: Gold represents the heights of worldly achievement, wealth and
recognition. It also represents money, long life and great ambitions, for
confidence to aim high and achieve your dreams.
Silver: Silver represents dreams, visions, and a desire for fulfillment beyond
the material world. Sliver can also represent intuition and sudden insights
especially in your dreams and can also mean bringing hidden potential to the
fore.
The colors and what's happening to Harry will be explained later on but just
keep it in mind!
***** A Hectic Day and an Interesting Night *****

Author's notes: Check Chapter 1
===============================================================================
Sorry for the late update! I've been taking time to go over this chapter and
fix as many mistakes as I could find. But here it is! Enjoy Everyone!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
 
Chapter 16: A Hectic Day and an Interesting Night
When Harry awoke the next morning it was a moment before he remembered why he
was sleeping in his secret room. When he did remember he had buried his head
under his pillow, groaned and wished it had all been a nightmare. That all that
had happened yesterday had been a sick and twisted nightmare. But he knew it
hadn’t been. He had risen from his bed and showered deciding to skip breakfast
in the Great Hall. After he was done his shower he had put on his clothes from
the day before and made his way back into the sitting room. As he walked from
his bedroom he stood by the couch and cocked his head, a thoughtful expression
on his face. He was hungry but didn’t what to go to the Great Hall to eat so he
figured he’d wait until everyone else was at breakfast before slipping down to
the kitchens.
As he sat down to wait he realized he didn’t have any of his school books and
material and sighed in frustration. A thoughtful look came over his face and he
bit his lip. He would most likely have to head to the Tower first and then to
the kitchen. With another sigh he rose from the seat he was sitting in, opened
the map and checked the area surrounding his room until he was satisfied, put
it back in his bag along with his cloak, swung the bag he had brought with him
the night before over his shoulder, and hissed a goodbye to the portrait before
walking toward the door.
As the stone wall solidified behind him Harry walked away as quickly as
possible after looking for anybody to be around. He started in the direction of
Gryffindor Tower since he needed to retrieve his school books and materials. He
encountered no one as he made his way to the Tower, which he was thankful for.
As he climbed the steps to the portrait he came across his first problem.
“Oh! Mr. Potter, dear, the Headmaster has sent out a search for you, you know?”
The Fat Lady said as he approached her. “You gave everyone a right scare when
you couldn’t be found, but me, being the gra-”
“Fortis viscus,” Harry bit out not waiting for her to finishing.
“Well I never!” she huffed looking irritated. “Kids these days are so rude,”
she muttered as she swung open. Harry hurried inside and up to his dorm
quickly. He noticed the bed curtains were open and figured that that was the
reason for the supposed search party. He briefly wondered who had spelled them
open but dismissed the thought as he went about changing into new clothes
quickly. After that he opened his trunk to put his other bag away and narrowed
his eyes. It looked like someone had gone rummaging through it trying to find
something. He knew it had to be either Ron or Hermione and felt irritated that
they were invading his privacy. Vowing to keep a locking charm on his trunk he
placed the bag in there, casting a locking charm on it before picking up his
school bag from beside the trunk.
Leaving the Tower again he headed for the kitchens to grab something light to
eat for breakfast knowing today would be a long and hard day. There was sure to
be talk of the article and the very thought made him cringe inwardly. He
steeled himself on what he knew was to come, placing his mask on firmly and
building his walls up securely. He would not let any know how he truly felt
about the incident. Let the comments and barbs come but he would stand strong
and indifferent through all of it.
He was thinking this to himself as he heard his name called by an old, but
strong voice. “Harry?” He held himself from sighing and looked around. He was
about three or four corridors from the kitchens and looking behind him he
noticed Dumbledore standing there. He turned around and paced a bit closer to
the old man.
“What is it Professor?” he asked calmly, tone as polite as he could manage.
Dumbledore gazed at him closely a bit. “How’re you, my boy?” he asked gently as
he motioned for Harry to walk with him. Harry gritted his teeth, but complied.
They were walking in the direction of the kitchens, Harry noticed.
“As well as can be expected, sir, considering my private life has been once
again made public,” Harry stated his tone calm as he walked. He decided not to
try and dance circles around the subject as much as possible.
“Ah yes,” Dumbledore said quietly. “The article in Witch Weekly was rather...
descriptive and personal in its nature.”
“I wouldn’t know considering I didn’t read it, but I’m sure many will tell me
in great detail – and quite gleefully, I might add – about the contents of the
magazine,” Harry replied.
“Yes,” Albus said nodding. “I’m sure some will be quite interested in talking
to you about the article. Do you know how it came about?” Albus asked as they
approached the portrait of the fruit.
Harry snorted at the question and couldn’t quite keep the scorn out of his
tone. “Of course I do,” he said barely holding himself from snapping the words
out and glaring at the man. He focused on the portrait instead. “I’m the Boy-
Who-lived, am I not? People only want a piece of the icon and that’s where it
all starts really! It starts with the moment my parents died and the instant I
became the venerated Child Hero of the Magical World. From that day on I was an
icon and someone easily used and discarded. Cho used me for, and because of the
title and this is what the result is. It’s not surprising because who would
honestly want Harry when they can have the Boy-Who-Lived?” Harry spat the title
out resentfully but slowly lost his steam. He couldn’t believe he’d just gone
and said all those things and to Dumbledore at that!
Albus didn’t say anything for a long while. He tickled the pear which wriggled
a bit as the picture flew open. They walked through and were immediately
accosted by the house elves. Dobby barged his way to the front and bowed to the
visitors.
“Harry Potter, sir and headmaster Dumbledore! What can Dobby do for sirs?”
Dobby asked enthusiastically looking up at them with his big eyes. The
surrounding house elves shot him envious looks when Harry spoke to him.
“Just a few slices of toast and some eggs Dobby and some orange juice for me
please?” Harry asked as he sat down at one tables.
“Just the orange juice for me Dobby I’ve already eaten,” Dumbledore said as he
sat across from Harry. Dobby nodded and set to his task. Dumbledore and he sat
in silence for the short time it took to receive their requests. Once set in
front of them Dumbledore took a sip of his orange juice before looking up at
Harry. “Is that really how you feel Harry?” he asked as if the previous
conversation had never been interrupted.
Harry put a forkful of egg into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. “Does it
matter?” Harry asked his tone indifferent. He pressed on though as the old man
remained silent. “I mean that’s what people see me as right? Venerated Child
Hero, the Boy-Who-Lived, and even if it isn’t widely known,” Harry said given
Dumbledore a pointed look, implying the prophecy. “People expect me to defeat
Voldemort because of a freak accident when I was one year’s old. So does it
really matter what I feel?” Harry asked raising an eyebrow, tone matter-of-fact
and condescending at the same time as he bit into a piece of buttered toast
more viciously then strictly necessary.
Dumbledore looked at the young man in front of him sadly. He could practically
feel the bitterness rolling off the young wizard. It was heavy in its
weightiness and pressed against him with a gentle but strong force. “Harry
there are people out there that do not see you that way,” Dumbledore said
looking at the young man over his half moon spectacles. “What about Ron and
Hermione or the rest of the Weasley’s and Remus? I’m sure they don’t see you as
such.”
Harry remained silent for awhile as he munched on his breakfast. He could
refute that fact, more easily than most would think, but he didn’t know if he
should say something. What the Headmaster said was mostly true but Harry, used
to seeing the familiar emotions in people’s eyes knew that sometimes his
friends forgot he was just Harry. He saw it sometimes when news of attacks
would come in, though there had been few so far this year. While he hadn’t seen
it in the older Weasley’s or Remus yet he didn’t hold much hope that when
things began to get really bad that it wouldn’t be there He sighed and looked
back up at Dumbledore. “Not all the time no,” Harry said neither agreeing nor
disagreeing. “But sometimes I think people forget that I’m just Harry; another
teenager just like them, with problems just like them. But whatever,” Harry
said downing the last of his orange juice and standing up. “I need to go; I
want to get to class before the rush of students.”
Dumbledore looked at Harry for a long moment as the black haired boy stood
there looking back at him, his face devoid of emotion. He sighed as he also
drank down his juice and stood up. “Of course Harry, my boy,” Dumbledore said
as Dobby began clearing the table they ate on. “You know, sometimes the way we
see ourselves we project onto the way others see us.” Dumbledore stated
nonchalantly, looking at Harry over his glasses.
Harry looked at Dumbledore at the statement and knew the old man was subtly
saying Harry may be over exaggerating in his claim. He bit back a growl as
anger rose in him. He decided not to say anything to that statement. “Am I
getting any sort of punishment out of this?” he asked instead.
“There'll be fifty points from Gryffindor for being in a student’s room but
nothing more. I think you’ve had sufficient enough punishment with the results
from yesterday morning,” Dumbledore replied. “While the Board of Governors
doesn’t really think…sexual activities should be going on in the school they
know how it was when they went and that the chance of it not happening it very
small. There have been many students before you, Harry, who have been
participating in sexual acts in this school.”
“What about Cho, what punishment did she get?” Harry asked.
“Seventy-five points from her house, expulsion from her Head Girl duties with
the second choice for the position filling in for the rest of the year and a
months worth of detention as she had planned all this. We – Professor Flitwick
and I – got the whole statement from her after…a bit of discussion on the
matter,” Dumbledore answered. “Now hurry on, my boy, there’s still five minutes
before breakfast is over,” Dumbledore said with a small smile. Harry didn’t
return it he just turned and left the kitchen without another word. Dumbledore
sighed again as he wondered if Harry would ever forgive him.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Harry left the kitchen and quickly made his way towards potions class. He still
felt the anger burning under his skin at Dumbledore words of his supposed
exaggeration, and just barely held himself from stomping down the corridors. He
took a deep breath in through his nose, held it, and then let it out slowly.
Some of his tension eased but not all of it. He was saddened at the lost of
house points but cheered slightly at the punishment Cho had received. Today was
going to be a horrible, bloody day and he wasn’t looking forward to it at all.
He arrived at the potions classroom. The door was open so he stepped inside,
and sat for once, not in his normal seat but in the back of the room close to
the door, setting his bag down beside him. No one else was in the room but that
was only because Snape was most likely waiting to make his usual overdramatic
entrance.
Harry had only been sitting there a very short while when he heard the low
rumble of voices and feet on stone coming closer to the room. He took another
deep breath, putting up all his walls and defenses against the eventual
onslaught that was the students in his potions class. His face was emotionless
and he pleaded with every deity he knew that he would be able to hold his
temper and not cause any harm or property damage.
And then the students were shuffling into the classroom. At first no one seemed
to notice him, or at least he thought no one noticed him. His eyes were on the
worktable in front of him. But then he heard it; the unmistakable hum of
whispers starting up. He could feel the stares that were on him and held him
self firmly from fidgeting.
“Harry!” he could here Hermione exclaim and several pair of feet coming in his
direction. “Oh Harry, we couldn’t find you after you left the Great Hall, and
McGonagall wanted you cause Dumbledore had wanted to see you, but you weren’t
in your dorm,” Hermione began to babble rapidly.
“Oi! Potter, were you hiding out! Too much of a coward to face things?” Pansy
asked sweetly as she made her way toward him.
“Parkinson your one to talk about cowardice,” Harry said interrupting Ron’s
sputtering at Pansy’s statement. He looked up at her his face blank of emotion.
“How many of your fellow Slytherins know you’ve been shagging Ernie Macmillan
off and on for a month now?” the question was casual and he tilted his head as
he looked at the dark haired girl. The people around her began to look at her
curiously surprised at this.
Pansy looked shocked at first before her feature quickly took on a scowl and
she glared heatedly at the raven haired boy. “Please Potter,” she scoffed. “I
wouldn’t lower myself to shag some disgusting Hufflepuff. You tell lies. You
just don’t want to face the fact that Chang got the better of you,” she sneered
before smirking haughtily.
“Of course you have,” Harry said right back ignoring the last part of what she
said. He smirked, a dark and dangerous smirk at her and she looked slightly
wary at this. “You have a fetish Parkinson for doing it in places where you’re
likely to get caught,” his smirk turned even more vicious and the Slytherin
girl was struggling to look unaffected. Harry noticed Draco behind her, face
impassive but caught him looking mildly interested. Eyes fixing on Pansy he
continued relentlessly.
“What about the corridor the Charms classroom is in? What about the wall across
from the Great Hall? What about that supposedly abandoned corridor in the
dungeons?” Harry asked. Pansy was pale but glaring at him all the same. I’m
tired of letting people get to me and I’m not my going to take it anymore,
especially not today, Harry thought feeling a bit smug with himself. He wasn’t
almost placed into Slytherin for nothing. He glanced briefly at Draco and saw
the vaguely impressed look in his stormy grey eyes.
“It’s not wise to make up lies Potter,” she hissed, trembling a bit in her
rage. Her face was regaining color, flushing pink in her anger. “Tell me
Potter,” she said her demeanor slowly changing. “Chang said that you were a
good shag, but she was really just trying to protect your fame, wasn’t she?”
she smirked as she looked down her nose at him. “Cant have the Boy-Who-Lived
looking like a complete incompetent, can we?”
Harry clenched his fists that were on the table and glared at the girl. His
face flushed in a mix of embarrassment and anger and he stood from the table,
put his hands palms flat on its surface and leaned forward towards the dark
haired girl. In a calm, slightly strained voice he spoke. “Now listen here you
annoying pug-faced bitch! Don’t –”
“Ten points from Gryffindor for your language Potter,” the velvet voice of
Severus Snape sneered. The student began scrambling for their seats if they
weren’t already sitting. Harry vaguely noticed Draco sitting one seat in front
of his. Snape strode to the front of the class, scowl firmly in place. He
turned to face the class eyes almost immediately going to Harry. “Another ten
point from Gryffindor for being an arrogant, attention seeker. Really Potter,
coercing somebody into helping you gain more fame and publicity; that was low
and disgusting, but what more can we expect from you?” Snape sneered viciously.
The Slytherins of the room began to snicker at this while the Gryffindors
glared at the man.
Harry could feel himself almost vibrating with rage. He took a deep breath
trying to clamp down on it, on the burning feeling that was running through him
at those words. He wouldn’t let Snape’s vitriolic words get to him, he
wouldn’t! Letting out the breath through his nose, he forced his face to become
indifferent, forced it to shut down. He saw Snape’s face flicker with annoyance
at his lack of response and felt satisfied about it. He sat back down in his
seat silently, not showing how much the words of his hated professor got under
his skin.
“What Potter, no brazen retort?” Severus quipped smirking at the boy. He was
pretty sure the annoying brat was too embarrassed to say anything. But this
thought was immediately crushed the next second.
“If you want to get your enjoyment out of spewing insults at children, then
fine. But I won’t help you by getting angry about it,” Harry said calmly. He
was using every bit of restraint to hold back his anger and not give Snape the
satisfaction of getting a rise out of him.
Snape’s eyes narrowed at the insolent boy. “Another five points from Gryffindor
for your cheek Potter,” Snape snapped, glaring fiercely. “Open your books to
page 115! You will be taking notes today on a potion you will be making your
next class period.” Snape said addressing the class. Everyone went about doing
as he said quickly. Through the commotion of people getting their things Harry
glanced toward Draco and noticed him glancing at him with a quirked eyebrow and
shook his head slightly.
“The Draught of the Living Death...” Snape began in his condescending tones.
Harry detached a piece of parchment and scribbled a hasty note on it. Making a
small, barely heard noise in his throat Harry caught the blonde’s attention
again and surreptitiously flashed the now folded up note. Draco gave a downward
tilt of his chin and Harry dropped the note on the ground and pushed it with
his foot toward the blonde. It stopped not far from the corner of his table and
Harry glance casually around the room to see if anyone saw but everyone was
engrossed with the lesson. Draco put the toe of his foot on the note and slid
it towards himself. In a show of scratching his leg he reached down and picked
up the note depositing it in his pocket. Harry knew he would read it when he
could and went back to paying attention to the lesson.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
As the class before lunch let out Draco shooed away his friends with an excuse
of needing to use the bathroom. They went ahead without him, and Draco made his
way to the nearest boys’ bathroom. Once inside he made sure no one else was
there before digging the note Harry had given him out of his pocket. Opening it
he read what was scrawled there.
Draco
I need to talk with you. I’ll be by your room sometime tonight. Don’t know what
time.
P.S. Pansy really shouldn’t mess with a Gryffindor whose half Slytherin, the
consequences could be damaging to the person on the receiving end. And, yes,
she has been shagging Macmillan from Hufflepuff.
Harry
Draco chuckled at what Harry wrote about Pansy. He hadn’t known she was
shagging Macmillan but he knew, somehow, that Harry was telling the truth.
Merlin knows the boy had his ways of finding these things out. That made him
wonder briefly if Harry had anything that he, Draco, hadn’t divulged to him. He
admired Harry’s Slytherin side that was showing much more than before. After
the other night he couldn’t really believe that Harry Potter was almost sorted
into Slytherin. But after today’s little display he could believe it much more
easily. With another chuckle Draco refolded the note, slipped it back into his
pocket, and walked from the bathroom.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The day seemed to pass in slow motion to Harry who was having possibly one of
the worst days of his life. The staring and whispering had been even worst and
more annoying than usual. He received many leering smiles from people;
appreciative looks that he noticed weren’t just from girls. It was
embarrassing, really. He didn’t see what the fuss about it was. He wasn’t all
that good looking in his opinion. But apparently a good portion of the
population of Hogwarts thought differently.
To add to the stares and whispers Harry had been dismissing, avoiding and
dodging every one of Hermione’s and Ron’s questions all day. He could tell they
were annoyed but he really didn’t want to get into another shouting match with
them. But it was inevitable as right after dinner Hermione and Ron cornered him
in the boys’ dorm as he went up there. No one else was there; Neville, Seamus
and Dean all having stayed in the common room. He watched as Hermione shut the
door, and cast locking and silence charms. He leaned back on his elbows on the
bed as she turned around a determine look in her eyes. Ron, too, looked mighty
upset and determined. Harry braced himself for what he knew was coming.
“Harry, where did you go yesterday after breakfast when no one could find you?
What was with that article? You’ve been keeping secrets from us all year, and
were your friends!” Hermione said immediately barely pausing for breath. She
had her hands on her hips and she was glaring at him with hard eyes.
“Yeah mate,” Ron said looking hurt. “It’s been happening all year, but I’ve
been giving you your space and not saying anything. I know you were pretty torn
up after…Sirius died and I figured all you needed was some space,” Ron said
carefully as he stood next to Hermione.
Harry’s expression had remained pretty indifferent through what his friends
were saying, but his eyes had taken on a hard glint. Breathing slowly through
his nose he looked from one to the other. “Why does it matter where I went?
Maybe I wanted to be alone after being humiliated in front of the whole school.
As for the article; “what was with it” Hermione? It was pretty self-
explanatory, don’t you think? I slept with Cho, she sold the story in all its
details I’m told to Witch Weekly and that’s it! As for my secrets I’m keep
lately? Am I not allowed to have some secrets, some privacy or am I required to
inform you two of everything I do? And while on the note of privacy, who the
fuck gave you two the right to go through my trunk?!” Harry spat the last
sentence out glaring at his two friends.
“We were worried about where you could be!” Hermione exclaimed at the same time
Ron said, “I didn’t go through your trunk!” Harry looked from Ron to Hermione
and his hard stare drilled into her, green eyes dark in his suppressed anger.
“Oh, so Hermione you think you have the right to go snooping around in my
things?” His voice was low and calm, a hint anger seeping into the words.
“If something’s wrong with you and Ron,” she threw the redhead a look. “and I
want to make sure your okay then yes, I believe I have a right.” Hermione
replied her chin raised stubbornly, a defiant look in her eyes.
“Well think again Hermione,” Harry hissed, finally sitting up from his leaning
position on the bed. He sat on the end of his four poster, feet just barely
touch the stone floor. “What exactly were you looking for anyway?” he asked
though he thought he already knew.
“The map because I thought we would be able to find out where you were but it
wasn’t there and neither was your cloak,” she said, a hint of accusation in her
tone. Her face softened a bit and so did her tone. “Harry we’re just worried
about you. You’ve been distant this year, always wanting to be by yourself, and
the secrets it’s obvious that you’re keeping,” she said and sighed sadly. “Why
can’t you just talk to us Harry?”
Harry stayed silent after she spoke, his glare only softening a bit. Why did it
always seem like he wasn’t allowed to have privacy? Was he not allowed to have
time to himself to think and work things through on his own, or did Hermione
and Ron think him incapable of doing such? Still staring stonily he remained
resolutely silent.
“Harry,” Ron said as the silence lengthened, looking uncomfortable. “We just
want to know what's going on with you. All this time you spend alone; if you
need to talk we’re here for you but you barely talk to us anymore. At least not
about anything really important, like it was before,” Ron ended quietly.
“Before what Ron?” Harry snapped, his face flushing in his anger. “Before
Sirius died? Before I really showed my “saving people thing” problem” he said
and threw a pointed look in Hermione’s direction. She flinched at hearing her
words from last year come back to her. “and got him killed? Is that the before
your talking about?” he asked quite nastily. Both his friends looked a bit
stricken and were shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. They looked like
they had lost all their bravado they had come into the room with, and Harry
felt a stab of guilt at being able to easily reduce his friends to this. But
they have to understand that I’m not always going to want to talk to them about
stuff. They’re going to have to realized that we don’t share everything, Harry
thought with equal measures of sadness and firmness. He wasn’t backing down on
this!
“Harry, Sirius’ death wasn’t your fault! Bellatrix cast the curse that resulted
in his death,” Hermione said coming back to herself. It was a little hard to
believe that her words from last year had been remembered, and to hear them
thrown back at her had been a shock.
“She’s right mate,” Ron said looking at his best friend imploringly. “You
didn’t cast the curse, Bellatrix Lestrange did.”
“But if I had stayed back, let the adults handle it Sirius might still be here!
Isn’t that the truth? If I had stayed back here and let the Order handle it all
Sirius would have stayed back because I wouldn’t have been in danger, and you
guys and Ginny, Neville and Luna wouldn’t have gotten hurt. If I hadn’t been
reckless than things might be different now! But there not and Sirius is dead
and I’m partly to blame and NOTHING CAN CHANGE THAT!” Harry said. He was
shouting by the end of it, trembling in his anger and frustration.
Ron and Hermione were struck speechless in the face of his anger and just
stared at their enraged friend. They didn’t know what to say to this, they
didn’t know how to make him understand that it wasn’t his fault. They stared at
him, green eyes shining and crackling like green fire. Chest heaving and body
tense; they didn’t know what to do.
“It wasn’t your fault!” Hermione cried desperately. “And I never meant that
comment in a negative way. I just meant that you had a big heart and tended to
let it rule you. That you like to be a hero and save people,” she said looking
at him pleadingly. She flinched back at the cold look to his green eyes.
“I’ve seen where my recklessness gets me. I’ve seen where my ‘big heart’ gets
me, and I’m not going to allow it anymore,” his voice was cold and calm, a
fierce determination showed through his words. “I’ll not let them get in the
way because when I do it costs me, and I’m tired of it.”
“Harry what do you mean?” Ron asked looking at Harry with cautious blue eyes.
“That the reckless, rush-into-things behavior has to stop,” Harry said firmly.
He softened his voice to get through to his friends. They didn’t understand
that Sirius’ death was at least marginally his fault, and if they did they
weren’t going to say so. It aggravated him that they wouldn’t agree with him on
this, that they wouldn’t at least see his point. He didn’t want the comfort
they were trying to offer. He’d rather have the cold, hard truth. It wasn’t
misleading like so many things in his life.
“Listen guys,” Harry said with a sigh. “I’m just tired of it all and I want to
make sure it doesn’t happen again. In order for that to happen it means I need
to stop my reckless-rush-into-danger-head-first-and-worry-as-things-go
behavior. Don’t you think I acted rashly last year?” Harry asked in a
reasonable tone. He saw Ron and Hermione share a look for a long, silent
moment. Then they turned back to him both looking a little uncomfortable.
“Well,” Ron said shifting his weight. “I mean I probably would have done the
same thing had it been someone I care about but I can see your point.”
“Yes you were a bit rash to just head into things like that,” Hermione said
reluctantly. Harry was satisfied enough with their answers though he knew he
sort of manipulated them into saying it. He felt slightly guilty but figured if
he could get them to see things from his point maybe someday they would
understand his outlook on life. He let out a large yawn that was only halfway
faked.
“Well I’m tired you two, I think I’m going to turn in. Today’s been really
stressful and I guess it’s all starting to catch up to me,” he said as he
stretched a little, and made it look like he was getting into bed.
“It’s still pretty early,” Ron argued.
“Yes, well you didn’t have people staring at you all day and whispering – which
aren’t really new for me – and making many obscene comments in the process. It
was really tiring having to fend people off from asking questions and whatnot.
I’m tired from it all and I didn’t sleep much last night either,” Harry said,
slightly defensively.
“Where DID you sleep last night Harry?” Hermione asked looking at him
curiously. Harry leveled a stare at her.
“That would be none of your business Hermione. I go there to get away from
everything, and all you need to know is I’m safe there,” Harry replied firmly.
Hermione looked ready to argue it, but instead she closed her mouth and
remained silent. She nodded her head grudgingly to his answer.
“We’ll leave and let you rest mate,” Ron said grabbing hold of Hermione’s hand.
“We’re alright, aren’t we?” Ron asked as he stood at the door with Hermione.
Harry gave them a small smile.
“Yeah we’re fine,” he answered simply. Ron nodded and Hermione smiled, both
looking relieved as Hermione took down the spells. They said they’re goodnights
before leaving the room. They closed the door behind them. Harry listened for
their retreating footsteps, muffled as they were and sighed. He loved his
friends dearly, really he did, but they sometimes just got on his nerves. With
another sigh he threw his invisibility cloak over himself. He had told Draco to
expect him and he still wanted to talk to the blonde. Pulling out his wand he
spelled the curtains shut, and once satisfied he pocketed his wand and made his
way from the room.
He crept carefully down the stairs, thankful that no one was making their way
up them. Once at the bottom he glanced into the common room and looked around.
Now he had to get out of the common room without getting caught. He wasn’t in
the mood for his friends’ questions on where he was going. Looking around he
decided to make a split-second decision and hope for the best. Making his way
in the direction of the far corner of the common room he eased his way behind
Ginny who was sitting with her back to the portrait hole among a few people
from her year. He leaned in carefully until he was close to her ear.
“Don’t say anything Ginny,” he whispered quickly into her ear. She jerked
slightly but stilled immediately. “Head to the portrait and open it for me
please, and don’t say anything about me.” Harry said. She quickly made her
excuse to her friends and rose from the chair she sat in. She walked casually
towards the door and Harry followed carefully behind her.
“Ginny? Where are you going, it’s almost curfew,” Hermione’s voice said just
before they reached the portrait.
“I, uh, need a book from the library. I have an essay and didn’t realize I
would still need the book,” Ginny said. “I’ll be right back Hermione, no
worries.”
Hermione gave her a long look before nodding her head. “Make sure you are
Ginny,” she said and went back to her homework. Ginny sighed before turning
back and walking out. Harry followed behind her, the portrait closing behind
him.
“Harry?” she said quietly looking around her. Harry grabbed her hand and tugged
her down the stairs, away from the nosy portrait. Once at a safe enough
distance he pulled the cloak back a bit.
“Ginny don’t ask me what I’m doing,” Harry said softly as he looked at her.
“Let’s just say I owe you one and keep this between us please?” Ginny looked at
him oddly.
“You’re not in danger are you?” she asked.
“No Ginny I’m not in danger or any trouble but just trust me on this okay? I
need to you to not tell Ron and Hermione or anyone really about this,” Harry
replied. She was silent for a moment, obviously thinking about it. She was
staring at him, her bright brown eyes intense.
“Alright,” she said and sighed. “I’ll keep quiet about it but you owe me,” she
warned pointing a finger at him. He smiled and pulled her into a quick hug
before letting go.
“Thanks Ginny, you just call in that favor when you need it,” Harry said before
sweeping the cloak around him and heading off. He navigated his way quickly
into the dungeons and to Draco’s room. He knocked at the frame and waited for
it to open. As it did he slipped in, and as it closed he pulled the cloak off.
He turned around, a greeting on the tip of his tongue and stared. Draco was
standing there in blue silk pajama pants, a blue t-shirt resting on his
shoulders in the stages of being pulled on. Harry stared at the exposed bit of
chest and stomach. He’d seen it before of course, but it didn’t stop him from
looking. Draco was lightly muscled, though still a bit on the thin side as he
was still coming into his body. Harry found Draco’s navel to be an interesting
thing and stared at it.
“Finally here I see,” Draco said pulling his shirt down. “I was beginning to
think you wouldn’t show up.” he looked at Harry who was looking around the
room, anywhere but Draco. At these words he looked back a faint flush to his
cheeks, and smiled wryly.
“Hermione and Ron saw fit to ask where I was last night since I didn’t go back
to the Tower,” Harry said. Then his reasons for wanting to see Draco came
rushing back into his mind. “I can’t believe what that...that fucking bitch
did!” Harry exclaimed and turned to look at Draco. “I mean I expected something
to happen, you know but this wasn’t even close to what I was thinking. And the
article!” Harry spat and began to pace furiously, gesticulating wildly with his
hands. Draco walked past him and sat down in his usual chair, and listened to
Harry rant and watched him pace.
“How did she get those fucking pictures anyway? I don’t remember her having a
camera or anything. And all the stuff that was in that article – I mean I
haven’t read it but I’m going on what people have been saying all day. I’ve had
to put up with rude comments and propositions all day, it was so bloody
annoying! And Cho,” he spat glaring at nothing in particular. “She looked so
damned smug about it all, like she had just won some great bloody prize!” Harry
could feel the anger pulsing under the surface of his control, looking for an
outlet. He continued to mutter disjointedly as he paced, face flushed and eyes
burning. He slowly wound down and turned back to look at Draco looking
exhausted and angry. He flopped down on the couch, his usual spot, and sprawled
out on his back. He fell silent, suddenly out of steam and words.
There was a silence for a bit before Draco cleared his throat. Harry looked at
him and Draco looked back. “One, I honestly didn’t expect Chang to go that
route either. When I said something big I was thinking more along the lines of
having taken pictures and showing them around the school, or selling them. This
was much more public than I had thought. I honestly think it was highly stupid
of you to even start back up with her in the first place,” Draco said and gave
Harry that patronizing look he hadn’t seen in so long. “It was obvious she was
up to something. I mean from what you’ve told me she wanted to talk about
Diggory the first time you went out, and then proceeded to stare at another
couple – the guy of which she had once and maybe still had – fancied. It was a
disaster from the second she asked you out again.” Harry scowled a bit at the
blonde but then thought about what he said, and realized he was right.
“As for how she got the pictures? Recording charm of some kind is my guess,”
Draco continued with a shrug. “But this should teach you a lesson; always think
ahead and try to figure out a person’s motives. And if you can’t have
sufficient blackmail material ready.” The infamous smirk appeared on the pale
pink lips. Harry looked at him and snorted at what the blonde said. He told him
of both his and Cho’s punishments. “Well she deserved it and probably more. You
should get a bit of revenge for what she did. And previously speaking of
blackmail where did you learn that about Pansy?”
“You know of my invisibility cloak. Well, I would wander around the halls when
I couldn’t sleep under it so I wouldn’t get caught, and I happened to stumble
upon Parkinson with Macmillan a few times over the last month. And besides, I
had no plans on taking crap from anyone today and decided to give her a bit to
think about,” Harry said with a smirk. Draco chuckled but nodded his head.
“She may be in my house and something of an acquaintance I would say, but that
was brilliant,” Draco replied and then raised an eyebrow. “How many other
people do you have information on?”
Harry gave a slow mysterious smile. “A few,” he said vaguely. Draco gave him a
look before shaking his head. They talked on a bit, Harry describing his day
and Draco relaying everything he’d heard from gossip, and even showing Harry
the article. Harry had snorted at it before throwing it back at Draco It wasn’t
long before Harry was yawning and looking tired.
“Damn, nosy assholes,” Harry muttered. “I’m tired after having to deal with
them all day. Hey, you mind if stayed here tonight? I don’t feel like heading
back to the Tower, and I’m just way too tired to try.” He looked at the blonde
across from him who was also looking a bit tired. Draco started at this and
looked at Harry with wide eyes, some of the fatigue receding.
“You want to stay here?” Draco asked his tone sounding a bit incredulous. Harry
nodded.
“Yeah if you don’t mind me doing so, I can sleep on the couch.” Harry replied.
Draco looked skeptically at the couch and the boy on it. He knew from personal
experience after falling asleep on that couch one night that it wasn’t that
comfortable to sleep on. Draco didn’t think it a great idea for Harry to sleep
the night on it but that only left one other option and he wasn’t sure Harry
would go for it. “That couch isn’t the most comfortable thing to sleep on,” he
commented with a doubtful look at it.
Harry grimaced not at all liking the consequences his back would take. “Where
else would you suggest?” He asked biting back another yawn.
Draco looked slightly uncomfortable and averted his eyes from Harry‘s. The
suggestion would probably seem odd and Draco wasn’t ready to lose his friend
because of a stupid crush he had on him. “Well – and just hear me out – you
could sleep in my bed,” Draco replied looking anywhere but at Harry, “I mean it
would be more comfortable but you don’t have to. I mean you wouldn’t want to
share a bed with another guy obviously,” Draco rambled. He felt very stupid for
even bringing it up now and wished he had kept his mouth shit
Harry looked at Draco and sat up slowly. He thought about what the blonde was
saying. He wouldn’t really have too much of a problem sleeping in the same bed
as Draco, except for the reason that he was sure he was starting to become
attracted to the blonde, and he didn’t want any embarrassing incidents. But the
idea of sleeping in a comfy bed was very tempting. “I don’t think I’d mind too
much,” Harry said slowly when Draco had stopped babbling. The blonde head
snapped around so fast Harry wondered if the blonde may have gotten whiplash,
and stared at him with wide unreadable eyes. “I mean I wouldn’t be too
uncomfortable with it.” Harry said quickly. Draco raised an eyebrow, eyes still
unreadable though no longer wide. Harry hastened to explain, though he didn’t
know why, and detailed a vague account of his summer activities. When he was
done Draco was looking mildly impressed and shocked.
“You’ve actually...done stuff…with other blokes before?” Draco asked. Harry
became slightly defensive at his tone though it wasn’t of disgust like he
thought it would be.
“Yes, do you have a problem with that?” Harry snapped. His tone was icy and
defensive. After he had taken time to actually analyze what he’d done over the
summer he had slowly come to terms with the fact that he liked boys as well as
girls. He had finally become comfortable with the fact and didn’t want to go
back into denial or loose a friend over it.
“No, no it fine with me,” Draco replied, quick to reassure. “But its late and I
think we can save my own experience with the same gender for another time,”
Draco drawled casually as he stood from his chair. Harry gaped at the words but
decided not to say anything. He would have to hear it sometime though! They
walked towards Draco’s bedroom where the bed was just like Harry’s in
Gryffindor Tower only a bit bigger and with green and black curtains, sheet and
blankets. Draco graciously offered Harry pajama pants to sleep in which Harry
accepted and left on the t-shirt he had had on under his school shirt. After
that they had each got into the bed with a bit of space between them. It was
incredibly awkward at first but they finally settled into comfortable
positions. Harry lay on his stomach, arms tucked around a pillow and Draco lay
with his back to Harry. After while their earlier exhaustion caught up with
them and they drifted off to sleep.
***** Attraction, Avoidance, an Apology and a Kiss *****

Author's notes: Check chapter one
===============================================================================
Hey everybody! SO sorry for the long wait, but I've been working on future
chapters trying to get more typed up to get them to you more frequently. So
I've been stressed, tired, frustrated and writer-blocked for a bit. There were
time when I broke down and didn't know if I could do it anymore. Not for lack
of inspiration I want to finish this and the sequel that will come, but for the
stress I've been under. So if you want to drop me a line and rant about the
lateness of this chapter go ahead, because I dearly deserve it. Also, thank you
for all the wonderful reviews, but new reviewers and old.
Now, on with the chapter!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
 
Chapter 17: Attraction, Avoidance, an Apology and a Kiss
He dreamt that he was holding something warm to his chest; lithe arms wound
tightly around whatever it was. Breathing in through his nose he could smell
the faintest traces of what smelled like peaches. As he nuzzled into the back
of whatever he held he slowly became aware of two things. One was that he
wasn’t exactly dreaming and two was that the warm thing he held was a person,
and by the sight of blond hair he knew it was Draco. He made no immediate
movement as he realized he was spooned behind Draco, holding the blond to him.
As he slowly woke up a little more he found himself disinclined to move and
nuzzled a bit more into the back of the pale neck.
This is really nice, he thought somewhat sluggishly. He could tell by the even
breathing that Draco was still asleep and he thought that best as opposed to
explaining any awkwardness that may rise, away. He pressed up a bit tighter to
the other boy, letting the attraction he had felt before but dismissed take
over. Draco was warm against him and Harry pressed his nose into the blond
hair, inhaling. There was that faint trace of peach he had smelt. He ran a hand
lightly over Draco’s stomach and felt him move slightly. He could feel himself
growing aroused from the proximity, and was glad Draco wasn’t awake to feel his
half hard length press into him. He stopped, and slowly and carefully removed
his arms from the blond and moved back over in the bed, away from his friend.
He sighed and turned on his side facing away from Draco.
He hadn’t been with another male since his last night at a rave during the
summer. He had secretly checked out some of the other guys in the school and
found some quite attractive but hadn’t made a move to do anything else. He
hadn’t wanted to intertwine his rave time with his Hogwarts life. The time
during the summer he had spent going to raves was a time when he was free. Free
from obligations, free from Voldemort, free from the Wizarding World, and he
didn’t want to mix that with his Hogwarts life where he was the Boy-Who-Lived,
a savior. If he let his attraction to Draco become more he wouldn’t be keeping
his two worlds separate, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to mix them.
He sighed again. He couldn’t just be normal could he? Reaching down to the side
of the bed he picked up his wand that lay on a pile of his clothes. Casting a
quiet Tempus he saw that it was half an hour until breakfast. “Damn,” he
muttered and threw his legs over the side of the bed, pushing the covers off
and sitting up. Running a hand through his black hair he turned around and
shook the blond beside him.
“Draco,” he called softly, shaking the boy gently. There was no response at
first and Harry tried again. He watched as dark blond lashes fluttered slightly
before opening to reveal stormy grey eyes. He briefly thought the grey eyes
looked a little more awake then they should but dismissed it as he remembered
what time it was. “Draco, we have about half an hour before breakfast starts,”
he said and sat back up, getting off the bed. He didn’t notice the look Draco
was giving him as his back was turned to the blond at the moment.
Draco rose from the bed and ran a hand softly over his stomach with a look of
wonder on his face. Shaking his head he stretched and threw another odd look at
Harry’s back. Then what the black haired boy said caught up to him. “What, half
an hour!” he exclaimed, eyes wide. Harry turned around and nodded his head. He
had a bemused looked on his face. ”I have so little time to get ready,” Draco
groaned before rushing out of the room. Harry watched him go and shook his
head. Then he sighed in frustration as he realized that he didn’t have his
school books. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he looked up at the
ceiling.
“Dobby?” he called out hesitantly, not sure if it would work. There was a pop
and looking down he saw the house elf looking up at him expectantly.
“Yes Harry Potter, sir?” the house elf asked.
“Uh yeah,” Harry said looking bemused once again. “Could you go up to the tower
for me and grab my school bag? It’s on the floor by my trunk,” Harry asked,
deciding he could use cleaning charms on his uniform for today. “And make sure
no one sees you and asks any questions,” he added as an afterthought. Dobby
nodded his head enthusiastically.
“Anything for you Harry Potter sir!” he squeaked before disappearing with a
pop. Harry sighed and sat back on the bed. He could hear the shower running and
had a brief image of Draco, wet and naked in the shower with water sluicing
down his body. He shook his head again to banish the image. Dobby popped back
in holding Harry’s school bag in his small hands. “Here you is Harry Potter. No
one sees me either Harry Potter sir,” Dobby said proudly as he held out the
bag.
“Thanks Dobby and don’t tell anyone I wasn’t in my room, okay?” Harry replied
as he took the bag and sat it on the floor. “It’s very important that you tell
no one Dobby.”
“”Harry Potter has Dobby’s word that Dobby will say nothing,” the house elf
said, and nodded his head with a serious look on his face.
“Thanks, that will be all Dobby,’ Harry said and Dobby nodded once more before
disappearing. Harry chuckled a bit and set about casting cleaning charms on his
uniform and himself. He began to change quickly and was just buttoning up his
school shirt when Draco walked in with a nothing but a towel around his waist.
Harry stopped and stared at the sight as the blond walked over to his wardrobe
and took out his clothes. Harry realized he was muttering to himself, and he
strained his hearing to catch what he was saying.
“I can’t believe I woke up so late…my hair will have to be done quickly. I only
hope it’ll be as perfect as usual,” the blond muttered as he pulled his boxers
on under the towel before taking the towel off and dropping it to the floor. He
then pulled on his uniform pants and shirt making sure they were impeccable.
Harry snorted a laugh which caught Draco’s attention and he turned and stared
at Harry shocked. Harry pushed the image of an almost naked Draco from his
mind.
“I’m heading out so it doesn’t draw any attention,” Harry said and he was
embarrassed to realize his voice sounded a bit strained. He was even more
embarrassed to realize he was half hard, but grateful for the robe that covered
him.
“Yeah I’ll see you later,” Draco said slightly breathless from rushing around.
Harry nodded and picked up his bag and walked from the room behind Draco who
was heading towards the bathroom. He had resumed muttering about his hair.
Harry shook his head and swung his invisibility cloak around him. He left the
room closing the portrait behind him. With a sigh he began making his way
towards the Great Hall. As he walked he thought about what had happened that
morning. He had been hanging around Draco a lot since they had become friends,
and obviously he was starting to notice things about his friend. He never
noticed anything about Ron and Hermione or any of his other friends but he was
noticing things about Draco.
Maybe I need to stop hanging around him so much before I do something stupid
like kiss him or something, Harry thought. He took time to digest that thought
and wondered if maybe he cut back on how much he hung out with Draco than maybe
his sudden attraction to the blond would fade. He thought about his time at the
raves. There no one had cared if you were straight, gay or bisexual since a lot
of people had been anyway. There he had been able to let himself relax and
experience things he probably wouldn’t have given a second thought too. He had
been a whole other person then; wild and free and uninhibited. Here at
Hogwarts, in the Wizarding World really, he had expectations and he didn’t
think people expected him to be bisexual.
He wanted Draco, he would admit it if only to himself, but he wasn’t prepared
to mix his two worlds together. Here he was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and
straight. There he was just Harry; another teen among a mass of teenagers
looking for a good time. Besides, he doubted Draco would want him anyway. With
a silent agreement he decided that he would stay away from Draco for a bit, and
let the attraction fade some. He would try not to think about what had happened
that morning. He only hoped it worked.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
After Harry left Draco stood in front of his bathroom mirror combing through
his blond locks and thinking. He was thinking back to that morning as he lay in
bed. He didn’t think Harry had actually noticed he was awake as the black
haired boy had nuzzled into his neck and ran his hand over his stomach, but
Draco had been. He had felt Harry spooned behind him with his arms wrapped
around him and had lain perfectly still so as not to alert the other to his
actual state of consciousness.
Combing his hair one more time so it fell around his ears he left the bathroom
to gather his things for classes. He was still a little shocked about this
morning. At first he had thought that Harry may be dreaming, and just seeking
out warmth but when the other had pulled back so slowly and carefully he knew
that Harry must have been more awake then he thought. It had felt good to be
held like that, and Draco wasn’t sure if it was because of Harry, the boy he
had become attracted to, because it was another warm body pressed against his
and he that he was a hormonal teenager, or because he was held so little
growing up. He pulled on his school robe and grabbed up his bag. Without a
second glance he left his room and began making his way to the Great Hall.
He was confused and didn’t like it. He was attracted to Harry and wouldn’t mind
starting something with him, he knew that, and he was pretty sure Harry was at
least physically attracted to him. But would the raven haired boy want him?
That was the question and Draco didn’t know the answer. His nerves felt
frazzled from his confusing morning, and he was mildly agitated about it. He
didn’t like this confusion and he cursed Harry for setting in upon him. He
decided to not think about it right now and to save it for later when he could
sit down and properly analyze what happened. With a decisive nod he continued
his walk to the Great Hall.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Both boys found that not thinking about it was harder than they had
anticipated. Through almost every class, especially the ones where the other
was attending they had thought about that morning though they didn’t know the
other was thinking about it. Harry had thought about what it felt like to wake
up with another person, a warm body by his that didn’t leave him cold
afterwards like it had been with Cho. He had drifted off into thoughts of
Draco; Draco in the shower, Draco with nothing but a towel on, Draco in his
arms, and the images that went with all of those thoughts weren’t helping any.
He had found himself incredibly aroused throughout most of the day, and had had
to resort to thinking of non-arousing things to help him. It didn’t help that
whenever he saw the blond he would start to think about those things again. He
had found himself staring at Draco’s lips during some classes and had gotten
points taken away for his inattention. It had only resolved Harry even more to
stay away from Draco for awhile.
Draco, too, found himself in the same predicament. He had spent much of the day
thinking back on that morning, and whenever he did it seemed as if his back
would warm up and throb as if someone was actually there behind him, pressed up
against him. His stomach tingled as if Harry’s hand was still there, caressing
it. It had led to many an embarrassing moment for him. When he saw the boy in
class he would find himself staring at those tanned hands as they went about
their business. Those tanned hands that had, just that morning, been caressing
his stomach softly, and smoothing over the clothed area. Harry’s hands were big
with long fingers and Draco had spent one class watching as the fingers curled
around his wand – which only led him to even dirtier thoughts. He had never
noticed his hands before but now he was noticing them every time Harry was in
the same room. It was disconcerting as it disturbed his concentration in
classes.
And the preoccupation of both didn’t go unnoticed by their friends. Hermione,
always perceptive had noticed Harry’s lack of attention all day, and had
informed Ron who – as clueless as he is sometimes – noticed also. His eyes had
been glazed over, the look in them far away as though he was seeing something
no one else could. He seemed to be deep in thought all day and not about the
school work either. Both Ron and Hermione had noticed it but whenever they
questioned Harry he would brush them off with an excuse of some kind.
The same thing was with Draco’s friends. Blaise, Greg and Vince – who weren’t
as stupid as everyone thought – had noticed the blonds obviously occupied
thoughts. He had also had a glazed look to his eyes, and when they had asked
they had received an easy dismissal or a snapped statement. After a threat of
being hexed they had wisely kept their mouths shut about the whole thing. But
it had been an interesting day for both parties, unknown to the other.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
His godfather wanted to talk to him tonight. He had asked (more like demanded)
that Draco come by his classroom an hour after dinner, and Draco was dreading
the meeting. He knew his godfather had noticed his inattention today even
though he hadn’t had his class. Severus made it his priority to make sure Draco
was okay. He knew his past with his father and strove to be there for him,
Draco knew, when and as much as he could. So when his godfather had sent him a
note to come visit him he had immediately known it was because Severus had
noticed his preoccupation.
He cursed himself for not being able to hide it better, and he cursed Harry for
making him so preoccupied. He was walking towards his godfather’s room after
taking a quick fly around the pitch. He had his Nimbus 2001 hung over his
shoulder as he walked towards his destination. Reaching his destination he
knocked firmly on the door twice before walking into the room. Severus sat at
his desk, a stack of papers in front of him and a quill in his hand. Draco
closed the door behind him and walked across the room.
“Draco,” Severus greeted, not even looking up from what he was doing. Draco
leant his broom against a desk and sat on top of the desk next to it.
“So Severus,” Draco drawled looking at the man. “What did you want?” Like I
don’t know already, Draco thought suppressing an eye roll.
Severus glanced up at the blond, a sarcastic smile twisting his lips. “Would
you care to guess?” Even his tone dripped sarcasm. He quirked an eyebrow and
gave a derisive snort. “Care to tell me what had you so preoccupied today? Even
teachers tend to gossip Draco, and I’ve been hearing that you have been
distracted in classes today.”
Draco suppressed a sigh. “I’ve had something catch my interest lately and today
it just caught more than usual,” Draco replied.
“Really,” Severus drawled out the word. “What has caught your interesting?”
There was a slight tone of doubt in the silky voice, but Draco was prepared for
this.
“Something to do with potions actually that has got me sidetracked,” Draco said
with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It nothing important really just a potion
I’ve read about that seems interesting.” Severus looked interested and Draco
smirked inwardly.
“What potion?” Severus asked, his work momentarily forgotten.
“Penitus Sensus,” Draco answered. “It’s a potion like Veritaserum only instead
of making a person tell the truth it makes a person identify their inner
feelings,” and just like that Draco was able to distract his godfather. They
spent the next hour talking about the potion and everything to do with it. It
also took his mind off of Harry for awhile and that was a plus after having
spent the majority of the day thinking about him.
He left the potions classroom as it was nearing curfew and made his way back to
his room. He was exhausted as he walked into the room. Between his new problems
with his attraction to Harry and keeping his godfather’s curiosity at bay,
keeping attentive in classes and keeping the Slytherin mask in play as best as
he can he was growing severely weary. He knew he hadn’t spent much time among
the Slytherins this year but he tried so he didn’t drag to much attention to
himself. He sighed as he walked into his bedroom and changed clothes. After
changing he got into bed, pulling the covers up around him. He tried to ignore
the fact that the bed seemed empty and cold, convincing himself that one night
with Harry in his bed, pressed up against him meant nothing. He was just
seeking a warm body, any warm body.
I just need to fuck someone that’s all or get fucked by someone, Draco thought
drowsily as he began to drift off to sleep, exhaustion finally claiming him.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The next week went by with Harry doing as he promised himself he would do. He
basically ignored Draco and hadn’t made one move to try and meet him. But it
was taking its toll on him. He realized he missed the blond, and not just
because of the attraction. No, he missed the times where they would sit and
talk about things; what they thought about the world and whatnot. Even the
times when they would just sit in companionable silence, staring into the fire,
lost in thought. He missed it all. And seeing the blond in classes wasn’t
helping even. He never thought there would be a day where he would miss Draco
Malfoy, but lo and behold he did, and the feeling wasn’t pleasant. His was no
longer just preoccupied either, oh no, he was also feeling definitely sadder
about the whole lot of things going on.
It was the following Monday, six days since the last time Harry had talked to
Draco. It was longer then they normally went since Harry tried to hang out with
the blond at least every three days. He was now sitting up in his bed in his
dorm, curtains closed with a spell around his bed. It was well past midnight
but Harry couldn’t sleep, again. He had his journal set on his knees that were
drawn up almost to his chest. The pen lay idly in his hand as he stared at the
blank page.
March 17, 1997
Okay so maybe I made a hasty decision in deciding to avoid Draco for a while.
It’s been six days since I last talked to him, and as much as I am loathe to
admit it I miss him. I didn’t think avoiding him would be such a pain for me
but it is. I want my blond back! He’s not really mine as he doesn’t belong to
me or anything, and I don’t know why I just referred to him as MY blond but I
want him back.
I’ve been such a prat and I know it. Draco has tried to catch my attention,
make me notice him. He even sent me a note asking me to come and visit him.
I’ve ignored it all. I’m a first class prat, and I know it. I think I’m going
to meet him tomorrow and sort all this out. I only hope that he accepts my
apology. I’ve been mean to him I really have, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he
didn’t forgive me. Draco doesn’t like to be ignored and not just because people
in general don’t like to be ignored. He told me once that being ignored
reminded him too much of his home life with his mother and father (before
Lucius went to Azkaban that is). So that makes me feel even more like a great
prat.
Hermione and Ron have been suspicious of my behavior, especially my
distractedness that day after the morning incident with Draco. I’ve made sure
not to stare at him too much or for too long in the case that it gives
something away. Hermione would figure it out quicker than Ron, but still I
don’t want them to know, not yet anyway. I’ll deal with that disaster when in
comes. But, yeah, I’ve been watching Draco and I notice all the little things
about him even more than before, like my clarity of him has sharpened with the
admittance of my attraction for him.
When he’s annoyed about something he pokes the inside of his cheek with his
tongue and narrows his eyes. When he’s concentrating on something he tends to
suck on his bottom lip until it’s all red and swollen, and then run his thumb
along the abused flesh. Yes, I’ve noticed all this. So its time I stop being a
jackass and start talking to Draco again. Hopefully he’ll forgive me.
Onto another point – whether delightful or not I haven’t really decided – is
that I never got to hear Draco’s story about his experience with another guy.
I’m interested in this bit of information for more than one reason. Hopefully,
if Draco forgives me he’ll tell me about it.
Harry looked at what he read and sighed. He really hoped Draco would forgive
because he would hate to lose a friend who understood him so well. While Ron
and Hermione understand the old him – the one who still believed everything was
so black and white – Draco understood him now. He understood the whole grey
concept and Harry need someone like that. Closing the book he rose from the bed
and went to his trunk. Taking the locking and warding charms off he put it in
the bag he didn’t use for his school books. His hand brushed something cold and
smooth and he froze instantly recognizing it. He hesitated before pulling his
empty hand back. He made his way to the bed and got back in, relocking and
silencing the curtains.
He hadn’t had the urge to cut in a while. It struck him at odd times, and he
would crave the release only the sharp blade could give him. Sometimes
something triggered it, like memories and little reminders. And sometimes he
felt so apathetic, so empty that he wanted to make sure he could still feel.
But lately he hadn’t had the urge to slice open his flesh, at least nothing so
intense to warrant it. He had little burst where he would scratch at his arms,
tearing open scabs and old wounds until he bled just a little. But he hadn’t
felt the need for more than that. Sighing he pulled the covers up around him
and turned to lay on his stomach. He wasn’t tired, too used to his nocturnal
habits unless exhausted to sleep but he figured he could try.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Draco Malfoy was frustrated and angry. Since that morning he had woke up with
Harry he had gone from distracted and thoughtful to frustrated and angry. After
that first day he had gone and done what he had thought he needed. He had
shagged Tracey Davis, a sixth year Slytherin girl but got little satisfaction
from it. He knew he was more partial to males than females, and then decided to
have a go with some attractive and competent seventh year boy. It had been more
fulfilling than sleeping with Tracey and he had forgotten about the 'Harry
Problem' for a while.
But then he realized that Harry was ignoring him. Sometimes they would share
secret little glances of amusement if they found something funny while in the
same class. During the next potions class the day after the morning they woke
up together they had been paired together which was a usual occurrence. What
hadn’t been a usual occurrence – at least since they had become friends – even
through the act they put on was Harry’s rigid poster as he stood a noticeable
distance from Draco and his somewhat short tone and reluctant behavior to be
around him. To anyone else it wouldn’t have looked odd, but to someone who knew
Harry they would have been able to tell the difference. And Draco could tell.
It had frustrated him for more than one reason. He had realized and grudgingly
admitted to himself that he missed the git’s attention towards him. It wasn’t
until the third day of not being acknowledged by the black haired boy that
Draco sucked up his pride and sent a note for Harry to come by his room to
talk. It was like normal where they would sit and wax philosophical or just
enjoy companionable silence. But Harry hadn’t come. And that was where Draco’s
anger began. He didn’t appreciate being ignored and that was what was
happening. He had tried to catch Harry’s attention the next day, threw a couple
insults at the Gryffindor. Nothing too harsh was said but enough to rile the
other into noticing him again. It had only worked a bit because while Harry
acknowledge him at last he had done so shortly before walking off.
By then Draco was beyond pissed. He didn’t understand Harry’s problem, and it
was really starting to tick him off. But most of all he missed the discussions
they would have, the debates they would have over things. Harry was smart, and
given half a chance could come up with decent arguments and points to theories
for things. The other boy gave Draco things to think about never trying to
change his mind, but giving him points and angles he never considered, and from
a perspective he wasn’t accustomed to. And Draco missed that along with his
friend.
Damn you Potter, Draco thought not for the first time that week as he sat in
his chair in front of the fireplace in his rooms. Damn you for getting to me so
much. But he had a feeling that he got to Harry just as much, and that thought
pleased him even as he glanced in sad bitterness at the couch the lithe body
was usually sprawled on. His lips twisted into a bitter smile and he wasn’t
sure why he felt the sudden tightness in his chest. Or he did and wouldn’t
acknowledge it just as he wouldn’t acknowledge the fact that he hadn’t talked
to Harry in six days.
He felt a wave a sadness encompass him and looked back to the fire, as the
feeling seemed to settle bone-deep in him. Damn you Harry for making me feel
this way, he thought and the sadness that was in him seemed to echo through his
thoughts.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
It was the next day and Harry had summoned all his courage for what he was
about to face. He had skipped dinner and had waited in an unobtrusive corner
opposite the Great Hall for dinner to end. He was under his invisibility cloak
and leaning against the wall with his back pressed to the cool stone. He
checked his watch and sighed, looking back to the doors. Dinner was almost over
and he was hoping his plan worked.
After a few minutes the doors opened and a rush of student started coming out.
Harry waited and watched looking for the familiar blond hair. After a moment he
saw Draco coming out of the Hall and waited for the blond to come his way. As
Draco neared him Harry took a deep breath and grabbed onto his arm. Draco
jerked but Harry got close enough and whispered, “Dismiss your friends and
follow me.” Draco looked a trifled annoyed and looked as if he would ignore
Harry altogether but made his dismissal with a cool excuse and followed the
direction his sleeve was being tugged,
Harry was glad Dumbledore hadn’t been around because that would have just
caused unwanted problems. He led Draco away from the crowd of students and had
him follow him until they reached the fourth floor and reached an unused
classroom. Once both were inside Harry took off his cloak and cast locking and
silencing charms on the door. He turned around and was confronted by a cold
looking Draco. Harry barely held himself from cringing. This is your fault, he
reminded himself sternly, and took a deep breath.
“Draco…I’m sorry for being such a prat this week. It just that, well…” Harry
trailed off and ran a hand over the back of his neck. He didn’t think telling
Draco ‘Oh well you see I felt the need to grope you whenever I saw you after
that morning, you know, the one where I stayed in your room overnight?’ would
go over so well. Where had all his pre-thought of words gone?
“You just what Potter?” Draco snapped glaring at him. Harry grimaced at the
venom in his tone when he said his name. He hadn’t heard it in so long. “You
just don’t want to talk to me anymore? You just figured that I wasn’t someone
who you wanted to be around? You just what!” Draco shouted.
“I just freaked out, okay!” Harry shouted back glaring at Draco. “I had fucking
noticed it before, but it only really hit home that morning we woke up
together. I’M FUCKING ATTRACTED TO YOU AND IT FREAKED ME OUT!” Harry screamed.
He had stalked closer to Draco, standing toe to toe with the blond. “It was in
that moment I realized that I might want you for more than a friend and it I
didn’t want it to happen.”
Draco, who looked mildly surprised at his words, went back to glaring at him.
“Why because I’m Draco Malfoy and better for nothing then being your friend, or
maybe just because you don’t like guys even though you’ve done stuff with
them?” Draco asked. “WHY DIDN’T YOU WANT IT TO HAPPEN HARRY, HUH!” Draco yelled
back into the other’s face.
Harry didn’t say anything instead he looked at Draco intensely before stepping
forward and crushing his lips to the blond's, wrapping his arms around the
other’s waist. Draco made a surprised squawk and he struggled a bit but Harry
held on and continued to kiss him. It was only lips against lips but Harry was
determined. Draco finally stopped struggling and pressed his lips firmly back.
Harry nipped at the blond’s bottom lip before gliding his tongue slowly across
it. A small moan came from Draco who parted his lips. Harry slid his tongue
into Draco’s mouth, over the other’s tongue and the top of his mouth. The kiss
was hot and sloppy, and Harry could taste the pumpkin juice Draco had drunk for
dinner and, distantly, what he had eaten. Harry found it glorious to finally be
kissing those soft pink lips that had been taunting him.
Draco was pleasantly surprised by the kiss. He wasn’t sure at first though, and
had struggled to break free. But his resolve broke; he had wanted to kiss Harry
for a while now, and he began kissing back. And it was wonderful, a bit sloppy
from the suddenness of it and his bit of struggle no doubt but wonderful all
the same. He swept his tongue back over Harry’s and wound his arms around the
other boy’s shoulders, leaning into the other’s body.
Harry began to ease off the kiss, drawing his tongue back slowly from its
twisting dance with Draco’s. He nipped gently at Draco’s bottom lips, then
clamped his lips around it and sucked lightly before pulling back fully. He
opened his eyes and looked at Draco who was looking back at him and sighed.
“It’s a long and probably stupid reason why I didn’t want to be attracted to
you,” Harry said finally, his voice soft.
“Start at the beginning then,” Draco said just as softly, his tone firm and
stepped back from Harry who let him and sat on the worn teachers desk in the
room. He kept his eyes fixed on the black haired boy in front of him.
Harry sighed again and ran a hand through his messy hair. “It’s like this,” he
said after a moment of silence. “I have no problem with being attracted to
another guy, for fuck’s sake, I did a lot with other guys this summer. No, that
wasn’t the problem.
During the summer when I went to those raves I felt free, you see. From the
magical world, from that Boy-Who-Lived shit, from the pressure and all the
fame; it was wonderful. When there I could do what I wanted without anyone
saying anything. I kissed guys and girls, I got and gave hand jobs and blow
jobs from guys, and I slept with a girl I had met during the summer. It was
great, liberating, I guess you could say,” Harry paused and a wistful look came
over his face. Then his whole face turned back to looking sad.
“But then that freedom couldn’t last forever could it? No, no it couldn’t. I
had to come back to Hogwarts, to the fame and the stares and the bloody
pressure of being the Boy-Who-Lived,” he spat, and his tone was bitter and
resigned. “When I came back I tried not to think about it because it hurt to
think about the freedom and fun I had to give up. That didn’t stop me from
discreetly checking out guys among girls now and then but I didn’t make any
more of it. Well, not the guys at any rate,” Harry said thoughtfully with a
scowl on his face.
“Then I began to realize I was getting attracted to you but I always just
brushed it aside. It didn’t really hit me fully until that morning after I
stayed the night, and I didn’t want it to happen because – to me anyway – I
didn’t want to mix my two...lives, worlds? Anyway I didn’t want to mix them
together. My Hogwarts life and the time I spent at the raves, they were mine
and totally separate from each other. If I admitted my attraction to you and
made a move to do something about it I would be mixing the two. I have very
little that’s mine and I wanted something that was just mine.
I know it doesn’t make sense, and it probably sounds stupid but that was the
reason.” Harry concluded and looked at Draco. Draco was looking back at him,
brow furrowed and a thoughtful look on his face.
“I can understand I think,” Draco said finally. “As the Boy-Who-Lived you have
very little that’s your own, and it’s only understandable that you would want
to keep something that wasn’t tainted by that to yourself, and untainted. But
Harry,” Draco continue and looked at him intensely. “It would be secret, and
it’s not like we’re confessing our undying love to each other or anything.
We’re just attracted to each other, why not just go with that for now?” Draco
asked reasonably.
Harry stayed silent for a long time thinking it over. Draco was right in what
he said. They weren’t professing words of love to each other just a mutual
attraction and it would be a secret. Only he and Draco would know so what was
the problem? Harry sighed and ran both hands through his hair in frustration
releasing a small growl.
“Harry?” Draco asked, his voice breaking Harry from his inner thoughts and
snapping his attention back to the here and now. Draco was looking at him with
an eyebrow raised, a slightly puzzled look on his face. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing,” Harry said shaking his head slightly. “Your right though, about what
you said. We’re attracted to each so why not just…you know, go with it?” Harry
replied waving his hand around vaguely. Draco smirked at him, rose from the
desk and walked towards him.
“Good,” the blond said simply and leaned in to kiss him again, arms wounding
around his shoulders. Harry sighed into the kiss, his arms encircling Draco’s
waist and kissed back. Its okay, he thought as he twisted his tongue with the
blond’s. Maybe a little mixing wont be so bad. Just enjoy yourself for once
Harry!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
After spending a bit more time in that abandoned classroom Harry and Draco left
heading their separate ways with a promise from Harry to come by tomorrow.
Draco walked back to his room in a slight daze. He hadn’t expected things to go
like that when he had heard Harry first whisper in his ear about following him.
He had, admittedly, only expected one of two outcomes. Either Harry would
finish their hard earned friendship or he would continue it and things would go
back the way they had been. He hadn’t expected a confession of attraction and
lots of kissing to ensue. But the results had been wonderful all the same. They
had decided to explore the attraction not quite giving a name to what they
were, and it was fine with Draco. They weren’t serious about each other, but
the attraction was there and very much mutual.
And Harry was a much better kisser than he had anticipated. He had expected a
shy and awkward kiss not a hot and a bit demanding mouth against his. It amazed
and excited him and he couldn’t wait to kiss the boy again because, Merlin,
could the boy kiss. Obviously his summer at those rave things were really
informative and helpful, Draco thought with a smirk as continued his way back
to his room.
***** Lust, Enigmas and Meeting with a Dark Lord *****

Author's notes: Check chapter one
===============================================================================
AN: Hey everyone! I know, I know; I'm a little late on an update. I'm sorry
girls and guys, but I was wrapped up in doing a few things. Sorry. I was and
still am a bit, very self-conscious about my writing and my stories, especially
this one since it's my baby. But I believe I'm worrying for nothing because I
have recieved NOT ONE bad review. I was shocked to discover this, but it is
true. So thank you all out there who are giving my story a chance.
Now, without futher ado I present chapter 18 of Razorblade Connection to you
all!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 18: Lust, Enigmas and Meeting with a Dark Lord
After that night where they had kissed things eased back into the flow of their
friendship with the added twist of the now acknowledged attraction between
them. Though they spent no more or less time together than before, the times
that they did were no less intense than that first time in the abandoned
classroom. Though they hadn’t actually labeled what they are they both knew
they weren’t anything serious.
On some nights over the following week Harry would stay the night in Draco’s
rooms, sleep in Draco’s bed curled up around each other. On one of those nights
Draco had awoken from a nightmare and Harry had awoken and began to comfort the
blond. After a few minutes of trembling and ragged breathing Draco had calmed
down, and Harry had asked about the nightmare he had had. After a moment of
hesitation and a bout of stubbornness on Harry’s part Draco had caved and told
about his dream. Harry had been there for the other boy, kissed him thoroughly,
and they had slowly settled back into sleep.
Things between them were comfortable; they kissed, groped and teased each other
whenever they were alone, and would pass each other looks during the day when
no one was looking. They spent as much time together during the following week
after the kiss as possible. One memorable day would have been that Sunday.
Flashback
Harry walked from Gryffindor Tower with a scowl on his face; he’d just had a
hell of a time getting past Ron and Hermione who had put up a bit of a stubborn
front to find out where he was going and why they couldn’t come. He was
extremely glad he’d remembered to put the locking charms on his trunk. Glancing
over his shoulder for a moment he sighed before continuing on his way. It was
Sunday afternoon and he had asked Draco to meet him in an abandoned classroom.
He was already five minutes late and he hoped Draco would still be waiting for
him. He didn’t hurry, but kept his casual pace. As he went he occasionally
checked around to see if he was being followed; mainly by Ron and Hermione, but
also for others. He made his way to the floor he needed and then walked down
the corridor, turned right, and continued on. He looked around as he approached
his destination, and satisfied that no one was around he slipped into the room
with a sigh.
“You’re late,” Draco said the second he stepped in. Harry rolled his eyes at
the blond and quickly began to cast locking and silencing charms.
“Shut up you prat I had to get past Ron and Hermione again,” Harry shot back
looking at the blond with slight annoyance. He walked over towards the huge
teacher’s desk the Slytherin was sitting on and sat down next to him.
Draco smirked at him. “So the watchdogs are at it again?” he asked innocently.
Harry gave him a stern look, but his lips were twitching as if he was trying
not to smile. After a moment chuckles began to escape the black haired boy.
“Don’t call them that,” Harry said after his mirth had died down. “Besides
aren’t Crabbe and Goyle the same?”
“No,” Draco shook his head looking mildly amused. “They don’t actually care
about me like Weasley and Granger do you. At least I don’t think they do. They
don’t say much,” Draco finished with a shrug.
“Maybe because you’re constantly talking and they can’t get a word in,” Harry
said cheekily, grinning slyly at the blond.
“Oi! Potter, are you saying I talk too much?” Draco asked as he turned towards
Harry fully, a playful gleam to his eyes.
“Maybe, maybe not Malfoy.” Was the amused reply from Harry. Draco gave him a
smirk before pouncing on him, straddling his waist and diving in for a kiss.
Their lips crashed together, moving against one another in slow, soft
movements. Draco brushed his tongue tip against Harry’s bottom lip, and the
Gryffindor parted his lips in welcome to the request. Draco swept his tongue
into the other’s mouth; a slow glide of velvet heat mapping out a warm cavern.
He traced his tongue along the roof of Harry’s mouth, against the ridges, and
then twisted it with Harry’s. Draco slipped his hands into Harry’s soft hair,
tugging lightly at the raven strands.
Harry’s arms came up and around the blond’s lithe body, wrapping around his
waist and pulling them closer together. Draco nipped gently at Harry’s bottom
lip as he ground his hips downwards; they’re half hard lengths meeting. They
both let out breathy moans at the contact as the kiss became more intense,
fiercer, and more passionate. Harry bucked up slightly, moved his hands to wrap
around each of the blond’s hips and pulled him down grinding upwards. The kiss
broke as Draco pulled back, throwing his head back with a moan that was
reciprocated by the boy beneath him. Draco rocked his hips back and forth; gave
a small circular motion and rocked again, all the while his hands tugged
lightly at Harry’s hair.
“Mmm, Draco,” Harry gasped as he thrust upwards. Moving one hand from Draco’s
hip he put it to the back of the Slytherin’s neck, and pulled him down into
another kiss. Mouths crashing together, teeth click slightly, they kissed
fiercely, tongues dancing in heated rhythm as they thrust against one another.
Their hard cocks brushed through their trousers; heat and friction and pressure
making a delicious combination to the two aroused boys. Harry’s hand moved from
Draco’s neck down his back to cup one round, firm cheek. One hand on the
blond’s hip and the other on an arse cheek, and Harry was pulling Draco down
against him as he thrust upwards.
Draco whimpered; the sound bubbling forth from his throat as he moved his mouth
from Harry’s and began scattering kisses down his jaw. He reached his neck and
peppered it with kisses and licks before nibbling on the tanned flesh. Harry
moaned at the treatment as he squeezed the cheek in his hand causing Draco to
buck heavily against him and groan loudly. Latching onto a patch of skin on the
Gryffindor’s neck Draco sucked the area into his mouth then soothed it with his
tongue. Harry gasped, took his hand off Draco’s arse, and rolled them over.
They were close to the edge of the desk but not in danger of falling off.
Planting his hands either side of Draco’s head he thrust down, grinding his
achingly hard length into the blond’s. Gasping harshly, Draco panted as Harry
repeated the action.
“Harry,” Draco moaned as the black haired boy dipped his head, and licked a
broad strip along the pale throat. Draco threw his arms around Harry’s neck as
he writhed beneath him. Harry nuzzled into Draco’s throat as their rhythm
became more erratic. He could feel his orgasm approaching like an incoming tide
rising from the sea in waves only to come crashing down on him. Thrusting down
hard in ragged patterns once, twice, thrice he felt Draco stiffen under him
before letting out a hoarse cry. Harry thrust against Draco a few more times
before he stilled and came with a roughly hissed, “Fuck,_Draco!” that he didn’t
even realize was in parseltongue.
He collapsed against Draco panting harshly, and he could hear the blond
struggling to pull in breaths through tagged gasps in his ear. After a moment
of silence aside from their harsh breathing Harry felt Draco shaking under him
seconds before he heard him chuckling. Pulling back and looking down at the
blond with confusion he quirked an eyebrow questioningly.
“Do you always speak Parseltongue when you come?” Draco asked with a smirk on
his face. Harry’s eyes widened and he groaned loudly before burying his head
against the pale throat again. He chuckled and the vibrations reverberated
through his chest which was flat against Draco’s.
“Yeah, that’s been known to happen occasionally,” Harry muttered between
chuckles. Draco heard and burst out laughing, shaking with his mirth which
Harry could feel as he, too, laughed.
“What else do you do in parseltongue?” Draco asked taking hold of his wand and
casting cleaning charms on both of them.
“Well,” Harry began, pulling back to look at Draco’s face. “You may find me
ranting in parseltongue now and again, you never know which language I’ll slip
into when, ah, worked up.” Harry grinned. Draco giggled, actually giggled
before pulling Harry down into another kiss which lasted for long moments.
Harry pulled back nipping the blond’s bottom lip in the process before he
slowly began to get off of Draco. Draco sat up and began to readjust, and
smooth down his clothes as did Harry.
“You didn’t seem bothered about it,” Harry commented retaking his seat on the
desk beside Draco.
Draco glanced over at him and gave him a smile. “Slytherins actually don’t have
the stereotype of ‘if you’re a Parselmouth you’re evil’ like other people do.
It didn’t bother me to hear it. Surprised the hell out of me in second year but
didn’t actually bother me. I had been amazed and envious that you got that
ability,” Draco replied with a shrug. Then he smirked. “Besides, it’s bloody
hot when not spoken with malicious inflection behind it.”
“I’ve never spoken it with malicious inflection, at least not the times you’ve
heard me,” Harry said giving Draco a pointed look. “There’s only one other
Parselmouth I know.”
Draco looked back at Harry with a blank expression on his face inwardly cursing
himself for his slip up. They never discussed Voldemort around each other, at
least very, very rarely since they had first called the truce. It was an
awkward and tense topic, and Harry’s intense green eyes weren’t helping the
matter. The silence stretched for another long, tense moment before Draco
sighed.
“You know my Father’s a sick and twisted bastard. Well in the summer after
fourth year he made me view some of his memories in a pensieve; Death Eater
meeting and revels from the first war, tons of them,” Draco’s voice had gone
hollow and empty, and his eyes took on a far away almost haunted look. He
didn’t notice Harry’s face hardening, and his eyes darkening in anger.
“I saw what they did during those meetings. They tortured and raped and killed!
Somehow I had fooled myself into thinking that the Dark Lord just wanted to
keep the different bloods separate, keep them from reproducing together. I
foolishly led myself to believe that he meant segregation instead of genocide,”
Draco trailed off before shaking his head as if coming out of a trance. “That’s
where I heard it,” he finished quietly, not looking at the raven haired boy.
A long, tense moment of silence followed. Finally, Draco looked up at the other
and saw a mirthless smile on his lips that left his eyes empty and cold. Draco
felt a shiver crawl up his spine at the look.
“Death Eater meetings aren’t the most pleasant of things to watch,” Harry said
agreeably in a calm tone. He was thinking about some of the visions he had had
that summer and in the beginning of the year. “They’re vicious and ruthless,
Death Eaters are. When I actually started thinking for myself I wondered if you
Slytherins even knew what it meant to BE a Death Eater. Guess you finally
understand.” Harry finished with a quirk of his brow and a grim smile.
Draco stared at Harry having never scene this side of the many facets of Harry
Potter. Draco was curious about when Harry saw a Death Eater meeting but didn’t
ask. They had been on this topic enough for one day, and he wasn’t sure he was
up for treading deeper. Especially if more of Harry’s psyche was revealed. The
Gryffindor was more complex than he had thought.
Instead he said, “I think you’re right. I don’t think most Slytherins
understand the full scope of becoming a Death Eater. Merlin, I don’t think I
even understand the full concept.” Draco muttered the last with a sigh. “Well
that discussion killed any arousal I might have had left. Don’t know about
you,” Draco commented lightly.
Harry’s smile turned a little more genuine and he sighed. “Perfect way to get
rid of a hard-on in a hurry,” Harry nodded sagely. Draco gave him an odd look
to which Harry just smirked. Draco shook his head.
We are so bloody weird, Draco thought. “Was there another reason you had asked
me here, or was it just so we could rut like bunnies?” Draco asked with a
quirked brow.
Harry looked briefly confused before the expression cleared. “I need help for a
bit of revenge on Cho,” Harry replied. Draco grinned wickedly at him which
Harry returned, and they dove into a discussion about pranks and revenge.
End Flashback
Two days after that meeting during breakfast Cho Chang had took a sip of her
morning beverage, and soon found all her hair dropping from her head. She had
shrieked and the Hall had erupted into chaos. During the chaos Harry had
surreptitiously slipped his wand out, and incanted the spell he and Draco had
discussed. And there in the middle of her bald head the words ‘Cho the Ho’
appeared in blue writing. The students had a great laugh at the expanse of the
Ravenclaw who had been crying about her hair, and the cruelty that was opposed
upon her. Her drink had had a potion in it that Harry had sworn Dobby to never
tell about, and to pour it into her cup which would cause temporary baldness
that would grow back within the hour. The sight had been hilarious and he had,
for once, been glad for Colin and his habit of carrying around his camera. He
remembered Cho having fainted after awhile from shock he supposed. He had felt
much better after that episode though the looks Dumbledore gave him as he was
leaving the Hall for his first class had been a bit disconcerting. Though some
were suspicious of him being behind it no one had been blamed for it.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The room was filled with fumes from the bubbling, churning cauldrons that sat
atop the work tables. Plumes of smoke rose from each; some in thick puffs and
others in wispy tendrils. The plumes of smoke were a multitude of colors that
rose to the ceiling, and blended in a larger cloud of swirling color. The only
sounds in the room were that of the cauldrons of potions bubbling and popping
occasionally, the crackle of the flames under them, and the slow and even
breathing of its one occupant. The room was heavy with the smell of the potions
being made, but its occupant wasn’t bothered by it.
Hovering over a cauldron of blue potion Severus stirred the contents clockwise
slowly. The potion slowly began to lighten from a dark blue-black to a sky
blue, and he stopped stirring. Adding the powered snake fangs he stirred the
potion counter-clockwise exactly seven times watching as it turned a pastel
blue. Satisfied, he lowered the flames so it would simmer, and left the work
table. Briefly looking over each of the other cauldrons he nodded to himself,
and walked from the room to his office. Sitting down at his desk he pulled out
the papers he needed to grade, ink, and a quill. He set himself to work
promptly on the stack of parchments. They were papers from his sixth year
students. With a scowl he began to read over them, and set about grading them.
Three Hufflepuffs, four Ravenclaws, and two Gryffindors papers – all sneered
and insult ridden – later, and Severus came across his godson’s paper. Pausing,
a thoughtful look came over his face.
He was constantly keeping an eye out for Draco, and his well being ever since
he had discovered Lucius’s abuse of the boy. He had seen the changes the boy
slowly went through over the last few years. He saw the subtle changes in
Draco’s personality and demeanor that showed that he was changing, but Severus
Snape didn’t think a person could go through such abuse, and not change. He
watched as Draco drew into himself little by little, watched as the depression
and bitterness began to set in, and watched as he slowly drew away from his
family. Hate for his Mother and hate and fear for his Father setting in, and
replacing any pride and respect he had had. He saw it all happen even as Draco
struggled to keep his mask in place. But he didn’t think anyone else really saw
the changes that had taken place in Draco Malfoy. Severus had to sit back and
watch it all, and he hated the fact that he had to. After having to patch up
the blond so many times after a summer spent with his Father, after having to
watch his godson as he sunk into depression, and after having to monitor the
boy because he almost overdosed to escape his nightmares, Severus Snape was
becoming weary, and wary of what else could happen to Draco. The Potions Master
knew more than anyone – expect, perhaps, Draco himself – how much Lucius Malfoy
broke his son.
Draco used to look up to his Father the way many witches and wizards looked up
to Harry Potter, or even Albus Dumbledore. All Draco had ever wanted from
Lucius was to know he had made his Father proud. But nothing his godson ever
did seem to make Lucius proud. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what
lengths of cruelty he tried to achieve Draco was never good enough for Lucius’s
taste. And Severus hated the man for that. When Lucius had ended up in Azkaban
at the end of fifth year – no matter how short term in may end up being – he
had been relieved for the break Draco would get. Narcissa may have been cold
towards her son, but she had never laid a hand on him. So Severus was relieved
for the time being while still in edge for the moment when he would get out of
prison.
Staring contemplatively at Draco’s paper Severus thought on the newest twist in
things. Lately – Severus would guess starting a little after the Christmas
break – his godson had seemed happier, more alive. Severus had watched the
light that had dulled to almost non-existence slowly come back into stormy grey
eyes. He had watched his godson slowly come back to him, and he didn’t know the
reason for it. He watched Draco, of course, and looked for anything that could
be reason enough to liven the blond up.
He had found things that confused him and then made sense if logically looked
at, and at the same time found nothing at all. The most obvious, but
unbelievable thing would be the things he saw between Draco and Potter. Or the
things he didn’t see. The tension was easily recognizable even when they had
come back for sixth year, and hadn’t immediately started in on it. That was the
same all up until Christmas break. While the tension didn’t dissipate any it
lessened, it seemed, and Severus could find no reason for it to. But then they
didn’t act differently, and he doesn’t think Potter could be discreet enough if
something had changed between them.
Then there was the little glances he had caught between them, though neither
seemed to show much emotion when they did. Neither Draco nor Potter showed any
in those glances, and it caused Severus to wonder if he’d thought too much into
it, and the incidents. But then the glances were too many to be coincidental,
and then they were not as they were no more or less than before. Before
Christmas break, before the end of fifth year Severus didn’t know, but he knew
there was a before.
The Potions Master scowled and quickly checked over Draco’s paper – already
knowing it would be perfect – and set it aside. He looked down and scowled
harder because the next paper was Harry Potter’s. Potter frustrated him to no
end. The boy was an enigma and constantly too hard to read now, and he didn’t
like it. Potter Jr. was supposed to be like Potter Sr. was; rash, reckless, and
easy to read since he wore his heart on his sleeve. He wasn’t supposed to be so
unreadable. It didn’t fit in with his image of the insufferable Potter men, and
he didn’t like it because it messed up things with his image of Potter Jr.
Harry Potter was supposed to be exactly like James Potter had been. And he was,
but not completely. While he broke rules and was rash and foolhardy he didn’t
wear his emotions for all to see. Not now anyway and Severus wondered if it was
just this year – a new development – or it if had been there all along. He
didn’t like either answer because they could both mean things he didn’t want to
acknowledge. Because it would mean he had been wrong about Potter, and that
didn’t set will with him.
Severus clenched his jaw and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration,
weariness, pain he didn’t know which. Harry Potter was one very frustrating
puzzle. For example, there was the incident on February first. It could have
been easily brushed off as the burst of accidental magic all growing witches
and wizards had when emotional or stressed. Even frown witches and wizards
tended to have them. But Severus Snape wasn’t naïve enough to think that. And
Albus’s answers, while logical left questions unanswered, and Severus couldn’t
find much on why the brat’s magic seemed forced, strained. There were few
theories that seemed wholly impossible as an answer to this mystery, but a
magical block seemed out of the question. Every magical person knew to place a
block on a growing child’s magic could be disastrous to the child. Recorded
documents of such acts in history and the consequences were proof enough. And
magical blocks were illegal for that sole purpose.
Sighing, Severus went over the parchment quickly, sneering at any right
answers. Putting the paper aside he rose from his seat and headed back to his
lab. He had potions to look after.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Hermione Granger had always prided herself on knowing the information needed in
school, on knowing the pieces needed to solve the puzzles of the dangerous
situations Harry always got into, and of knowing her friends. She knew when
something was wrong with one of her friends; she knew when they needed help,
and when they needed a good cuff round the ear. And Hermione knew there was
something wrong with her friend Harry Potter. She had known Harry since first
year and over the following years she though she had gotten to known him very
well. She knew when he when he was angry, upset, sad, or anxious. She knew when
he was in trouble, or in need of held just as well as she knew when he was
keeping secrets. And Harry Potter was definitely keeping secrets.
In the beginning of the year he had seemed fine if a bit depressed and subdued.
But that was understandable; after all, he had lost his godfather only about
four months previously. He had seemed a bit wearier, a bit more subdued, but
she couldn’t see anything worse wrong with him. He seemed like any other person
who was grieving over the death of a loved one. When Hermione had seen this she
had decided to hold off talking to Harry about Sirius and to let him be until
it looked like she would need to step in. at first it didn’t seem like she
would need as Harry had seemed to be coping fine. He smiled, and laughed, and
seemed to be basically coping with his loss.
And then he started wanting to be along more. Excusing himself from his
friends; he would slip off to someplace for hours on end to ‘clear his mind’,
or ‘be along’ as he always said. That was when Hermione started to worry about
her raven haired friends. Though he didn’t act much different the constants
wish to be alone, and away form his friends had her concerned. She had brought
it up to Ron –concerned as she was- to see if there was anything going on with
nightmares, or visions. But as far as Ron knew there wasn’t, though that meant
nothing when one knew silencing charms.
When she had inquired to her boyfriend about talking to Harry, Ron had been
adamant that their friend needed space and time, and would come to them if need
be. But she hadn’t been sure. After Harry had skived off his classes that one
day she had decided it was best to step in despite Ron’s claims otherwise. She
had confronted Harry thinking she could control the situation, get the
information on Harry’s sudden need for solidarity, and comfort her friend
afterwards. But she hadn’t been in control, and she hadn’t comforted her
friend, and she hadn’t founded out why he sought solidarity. She’d only
accomplished upsetting Harry and causing tension between them all. And her
attempt to repair it only made things worse, not only between her and Harry,
but between Harry and Ron too.
After that she had thought the things her best friend said and the things he
didn’t say, and decided to give him his space. She didn’t like it, knowing he
may be hurting and that she couldn’t do anything about it, but she respected
his wishes and stopped interfering. Thing began to ease back to normal after
that for the three of them. Though still concerned about her friend she kept
her worries to herself unless she talked about them with Ron. But then the need
to be along increased if only slightly and he began disappearing more often.
She’d wondered what could be so heavy on Harry’s mind that he would talk to her
about, or to Ron. She worried that something was wrong that he wasn’t talking
about, but yet he seemed so happy, so untroubled most of the time that she was
confused on if she was right.
Then the incident on February first happened. She had tried to talk to him
about it, but Harry had been so cold that she had given up, frustrated, and
confused, and hurt. And then things with Cho started up again. Admittedly, she
was wary of the girl at first, but was also happy that Harry may actually stop
sulking and take interest in something. While she was happy about his interest
in schoolwork increasing she was also even more eager to see him return to his
old self. She had had hope that Cho would bring Harry out of his funk. Even
though Harry had showed no real excitement or interest she had help out hope
that at the very least Cho would distract him from whatever troubled him. She
really hated being wrong.
Things with the Ravenclaw had gone so well at first, and then the girl turned
out to be a completely evil bint. Hermione hadn’t predicted so many things that
came later. It was shocking seeing that article that day; not only for the fact
was it another article on Harry, but the articles contents as well. She had
been surprised to learn of her friend shagging the Ravenclaw; she and Ron
hadn’t even gone that far yet! But it was even more shocking to hall the pieces
sink in. the girl had set it all up. She had seduced her friend only to claim a
bit of fame and attention for herself even at the consequence of humiliating
Harry. She really hated being wrong.
Harry had vanished after leaving the Great Hall. They hadn’t found him the rest
of the day, not even a trace of him. Wherever he had gone it had been well and
truly hidden from them. Then he showed up to class the next day as if nothing
happened! They had walked into potions to find him sitting there calmly as if
the day before had never occurred. But she’d been too relived to be angry at
her friend at that moment. But the day seemed to be another one full of shock
as he cut into Pansy Parkinson. Once recovered though Hermione wanted to know
what was going on, and after being avoided all that day she had had enough!
When she and Ron had cornered Harry that night it had only gone slightly better
than the last time they had confronted they’re friend. To hear him use her
words, though, from the previous year had been a shock, and it had made her
feel bad for ever saying the words to being with. And then to hear his self-
accusations about Sirius’s death and the conviction with which they were said
hadn’t really shocked her as she had thought Harry would blame himself. Yes,
she knew Harry had been reckless that night and rash in his stubborn decision
to go to the Ministry, but she didn’t think it could have been helped. Harry
was a person with a big heart and he had – as long as she has known him –
tended to let it, and his emotions rule him. It seemed like an instinctively
Harry thing to do.
While the conversation hadn’t ended the way she would have preferred she got a
look into things a bit more. While she wasn’t fond of the idea she had
reluctantly agreed to give Harry his space, and not dig for information. She
just wanted to help her friend, but she could see that she was doing more
damage than good. She didn’t want to distance him more than he already was. She
wished she knew what was causing him to draw away from her and Ron, causing him
to distance himself as he was now. She would help if she knew the problem, but
she didn’t know and Harry had made it abundantly clear that he didn't want
their help.
Sitting in the library Hermione sat staring blankly at the book in her hand,
quill held in a lax grip. Shaking her head quickly she tried to dispel her
thoughts and focus on her charms work she had come to do, but it was hard. She
was constantly thinking about her black haired friend and the distance that
seemed to be growing between the three of them. She knew Ron was hurt by
Harry’s increased secrecy – though he was to ‘male’ as Hermione always thought
exasperatedly – to admit it. Harry had become harder to read, an enigma really,
and a puzzled she wasn’t sure how to solve. Or even if she wanted to risk
solving. Would it solve the problems between them, would it shorten the
distance, or make it worse? Harry was unpredictable, even more so now than
before.
She sighed. There were just too many ‘what if’s’ to this than she was
comfortable with, and she didn’t like it. She was one who looked to books for
information, but books weren’t going to solve this problem. At least she didn’t
think it would. She sighed again and focused herself intently on her work,
pushing thoughts of her friend and the problems there from her mind. She would
work on her schoolwork now and worry about the enigma that is Harry Potter
later.
 
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The room was a large, rectangular shape with dark green wall and soft, black
carpeting on the floor. It was softly lit by the two silver chandeliers that
hung from the ceiling of the room; elegant and beautiful. In three corners of
the room large snake statutes dominated in a beautifully sinister fashion,
baring fangs as if ready to attack. In the upper left-hand corner a dark wood
door was situated, closed. On the right side of the room on the wall a large
depiction of the Dark Mark resided, adding to the dark beauty of the room. And
in the middle of the room on obsidian five inch dais sat an ornate looking
throne of black wood. And on that throne was the most feared wizard to date,
Lord Voldemort.
Around him stood several black robed, white masked figures with heads bowed as
they stood in the presence of their Master. The room was blanketed in silence
as Voldemort observed them. His red eyes watched them all with causal
indifference for a moment longer.
“My loyal followers,” the high, cold voice sliced through the silence. He
scanned the people in the room with narrowed eyes then barked, “Severus,
report!”
A robed figure stepped forward smoothly from the circle, kneeled and kissed the
hem of the robes that trailed off the dais. Voldemort watched with eyes
narrowed and guarded. He wasn’t fully convinced yet that the Potions Master was
loyal, and he was still highly suspicious.
“My Lord,” Severus murmured as he stood, head still bowed. It had taken a lot
of smooth talking and prostrating on his part to even be welcomed – reluctantly
– back in, but he was still considered suspicious and knew he had to tread
carefully. “Dumbledore’s negotiating with some hags over an alliance at the
moment as well as some Veelas,” Severus said. It was mostly true information as
he and Albus had worked out. The hags were already on their side and some
Veelas had already agreed to side with the Order.
Voldemort looked at his Death Eater for a long time before he spoke. “And the
boy?”
Severus tilted his head to the side slightly before answering. “Still pitifully
mourning his pathetic godfather and drowning in self-pity, grief and
resentment. His friends have tried to comfort him, but from what I’ve seen he’s
pushing them away,” he smirked, and it was only a bit forced. Voldemort nodded
his head slowly, thoughtfully and smirked.
“Probably believes that by pushing those he cares about away he’ll save them
from harm,” he sneered, red eyes shining maliciously. “Typical Gryffindor
behavior, the fool! That’s the wonderful thing about Gryffindors,” he
continued, flicking his eyes around at his gathering. “There’s very little one
must do to break them emotionally for they do the most damage themselves. Weak
fools. Anything else Severus?” he was definitely a bit more pleased with his
Death Eater, though still suspicious.
“No, my Lord,” Severus murmured, bowing his head again. Voldemort scowled down
at him. He caressed his wand before pointing it at the man.
“Crucio!” The scream rents the air of the room, sharp and shrill, and Voldemort
smirks at the twisting, writhing figure. Finally he lifts the curse leaving the
man panting and shaking and sweating on the floor. “You are close to Dumbledore
Severus working in that school, I want more information!”
“Y-yes m-my L-lord,” Severus said shakily, rising as steadily as possible from
the floor.
“Very well,” Voldemort said with a hard stare of crimson eyes. “Keep an eye on
Potter and Dumbledore, and gather information for me Severus.” His voice held
demands in it as well as an undertone of a threat. It was also dismissive.
Severus bowed again before turning and heading toward the door as steadily as
possible. He knew he was in a precarious position with the Dark Lord and had to
tread extremely carefully. That dismiss was of the meeting for HIM and not for
his turn to give information. He only hoped nothing of importance is said.
Voldemort watched the Potions Master go with narrowed crimson eyes. It was best
to keep the man at arms length for now until he was sure about his loyalties.
Turning back to his followers he cast an eye over them imperiously. “Fenrir
how’re we doing with recruiting more werewolves?” A man with stepped forward
and executed the normal formalities like Severus had before standing again.
“Besides the three remaning from my old pack I’ve come across another of about
nine or ten who are still under ah, negotiations. Besides them I’ve been able
to recruit four others who shall be here for the next meeting,” Fenrir Greyback
said. Voldemort nodded his head slightly, very much satisfied with the results.
Seven werewolves already willing and a pack of possibly ten who are considering
an alliance; Voldemort was very much pleased with the budding outcome.
“Good. You keep with negotiations and I don’t care how you do it just get them
on our side.” Fenrir nodded before stepping back. “Bryant, how is your
assignment coming along?” he continued easily, watching as a tall, broad
shouldered young man stepped forward. After formalities Bryant stood back and
bowed his head in respect.
“Excellent my Lord,” Bryant Macnair stated with a muted self-satisfaction. “We
should be able to begin weaving the ward curses into wards within the next two
months at the most after a trial test period. Two of the curses are ready to be
used now though; tested and perfected.” Voldemort looked down on the young man
with a small hint of satisfaction in his red eyes. The young man was – roughly
– no more than ten months out of school and was already showing great promise
among his followers. He was an expert spell creator, especially of curses, and
he had asked the young man to create a few curses to weave into wards and to
use in battle. And Bryant Macnair was succeeding in both wonderfully.
“Splendid young Macnair,” he said, and his words were a little more serpentine
than before. “Keep me updated on your progress.” Bryant nodded with a small
pleased smile on his face as he stepped back. “Narcissa,” his serpentine drawl
and red eyes went to said woman. “I do hope your assignment has reaped better
results than your husband’s did when I had given him his task.” His voice was
less warm than it had been with Macnair Jr. – if it could ever be called warm –
as he was still quite upset with Lucius’s failure.
“I assure you my Lord that I do not hold Lucius’s incompetence. I have
succeeded in my mission and you now have two powerful and individually gifted
Sinclairs’ on your side,” Narcissa said smoothly.
Voldemort’s eyes widened fractionally and if he had possessed eyebrows they
would have been lifted. Truth be told he hadn’t expected the Lady Malfoy to
succeed. Not because he didn’t want her too, but more because he knew the
reputation of the Sinclair family. While they were open to many things and held
little prejudices for a pureblood family, they weren’t necessarily ‘open’ to
his ideas. But they held power, power that he had wished to have in his ranks
of Death Eaters. When he had set the task to Narcissa he had expected one of
two outcomes. Either she would fail, or she would succeed gaining him one ally
from the family. The fact that she had succeeded and gotten him two allies was
a pleasant surprise.
“Go on, tell me about the two you’ve recruited,” Voldemort demanded.
“Yes my Lord. They are brother and sister, and during my stay in France with
them I learned that they are from the current Lord Sinclair’s uncle’s side of
the family. When I was feeling them out to find potential allies for you these
two approached me. They commented about knowing my husband’s allegiance and
stated their wish to join. The youngest – Audrey Sinclair – is powerful
magically as well as being a gifted seer. Plus she is very skilled in all forms
of divination and astral projection. I had her give me proof first, of course,
but she proved true. The oldest – Nicholas Sinclair – is also powerful
magically as well as being gifted with the ability to manipulate shadows,”
Narcissa explained.
Voldemort felt pleased about this information as he thought it over. He would
have to judge the girl’s abilities himself, of course, but if she really
possessed such exceptional skills then she would be useful. And the young man
possessing the ability to manipulate shadows would also be useful to him.
“Excellent Narcissa,” Voldemort’s serpentine drawl filled the room after a
moment. “I believe you are well on your way to making up for Lucius’s failure.
Contact them for a meeting with me.” Narcissa gave a smooth nod of her head
before rejoining the sea of black.
“Annabelle what news do you bring from the Ministry?”
“Well my Lord,” Annabelle said after the formalities were completed. “The
Ministry has come to the final decision and has almost completed preparations
in regards to distributing a cadre of Aurors and Hit Wizards for protecting
major magical villages. They were trying to make sure they had enough of each
distributed for protection – on a semi-permanent basis – to villages and for
their actual jobs as designated by the Ministry. Fudge is trying to repair the
damage he’s done to himself,” she chuckled throatily at the thought.
“Well he does have to make up for the fact that he was informed of my return
and ignored it. The fool,” Voldemort chuckled also as sounds of agreement were
made around the room.
“There isn’t much else going on. Fudge is once again relying – reluctantly, I’d
say – on Dumbledore’s advice and wisdom,” she said sarcastically. “There
working on protecting magical villages at the moment and little else.”
“Incompetent fools Fudge and Dumbledore, and many ministry workers are. But
their mistakes and short-comings are to our advantage. Keep me up on the
Ministries goings on Annabelle.” She nodded before stepping back. He went
through and questioned more of his followers dishing out punishments when he
was displeased. Finally he looked around, red eyes glinting in the candle
light. “Now on to other matters. With the increase in followers to our cause we
are now ready. Within a month’s time we will lay siege to Azkaban and free my
captured followers!”
The echoing cackle in the room, high and cold, followed the declaration. It was
time for his followers to be released, and for his right hand to rejoin him at
his side.
***** Start of Easter Break, Malfoy Manor and bit of Mischief *****

Author's notes: Check first chapter
===============================================================================
AN: Hello everyone! I'd just like to say how absolutely sorry I am that this is
so late. First I had to finish typing it up, and then a lot of personal
problems popped up. Major one being that me and my family moved. I only got the
internet back on line about a week or so ago. So I freely welcome any
complaints about the lateness of this chapter. I hope the chapter makes up for
it though.
 
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
 
Chapter 19: Start of Easter Break, Malfoy Manor and bit of Mischief
After the ‘Cho Incident’ with the Witch Weekly article and the resulting
phenomenon that occurred when he had holed himself away, Harry had been setting
aside time to research what was going on with him. It was hard to do between
schoolwork, time with Draco and the tense and not-so-tense moments with Ron and
Hermione. But he managed somehow.
There was a moderate amount of information he was able to find on the subject,
though what he did fine was useful. The bolts of colored lightning were
external showings of a person’s magic reacting to a situation. It normally only
happened with powerful witches and wizards. He had a few theories that he
wanted to test also, and was glad for the time to do so. He hadn’t brought it
up to anyone yet; neither Ron and Hermione, or Draco knew about his research or
theories. He wanted to be surer before he brought it up to ANYONE. But if his
theories were right...
He was really excited about the coming prospects and couldn’t wait for Easter
break, which was starting not long after his last class. He was in
Transfiguration now, his last class that Friday for the next two weeks. The
only downside was that both Ron and Hermione were staying for the break. It
wasn’t that he didn’t want them around; it was just that they would nag him
with wanting to know what he’s up to, especially Hermione. He also knew that
Draco was going home for the first five days of break before returning earlier
than most students. He had felt a bit uneasy when Draco had told him about the
letter he had received from his mother, but he had come to mostly trust the
blond and from the slightly uncomfortable look Draco had given the letter,
Harry knew that he was uneasy about it too.
When the class was finally over, Harry let out a barely audible sigh of relief
as he packed up his books and things. Those leaving for the break were doing so
after dinner, and he knew that a good portion of the Gryffindors were leaving
also. He followed Ron and Hermione out of the room and the three of them made a
trek back to Gryffindor Tower. Immediately upon entering Hermione sat in one of
the common room couches and began pulling out books, quills, parchments and
ink. While Ron began moaning about doing schoolwork, Harry sat and followed
Hermione’s actions. He wanted to get as much of the assigned schoolwork done as
possible so he had more free time to work on his research. He noticed Hermione
give him a look between pleased and calculating out of the corner of his eye,
but ignored it. After a bit of whining Ron finally settled down and began
working along with them, especially after the severe looks Hermione kept giving
him.
They spent the time up until dinner working, though Ron stopped after a short
period of time and set up a game of Exploding Snap with Seamus. They packed up
their things and took them up to the dorms, then left for dinner. Dinner was
the same as usual only a slightly more boisterous affair with the excitement of
a short break looming over everyone. Harry caught Draco’s eye once during
dinner; a brief, but intense stare and a one-sided quirk of the lips before
they looked away.
Even though he wouldn’t admit it aloud, and especially not to Draco, he was
worried for his friend. He knew from what Draco had told him of his home life
that his mother was just as unpleasant as his father. No, she didn’t abuse him
like Lucius, but her cold demeanor and blatant ignorance of her husband’s
actions towards her son were an abuse all on it own. So, yes, he was slightly
uneasy about things concerning the blond’s trip home.
With dinner over the students leaving began to make their way to the Entrance
Hall so they could take the carriages to the train station. After saying
farewell to their housemates, he Ron and Hermione made their way back to the
Tower. He wanted to turn around, search the crowd and look at Draco one more
time, but he knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. So he kept walking. Arriving back
at the Tower he finished up the work he could, saving the essays in Potions,
DADA and Charms for later. After a bit of time spent with his friends they all
separated for bed.
That night Harry’s dreams were full of Draco and he desperately hoped the blond
would be alright.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
When Draco arrived at King’s Cross and departed from the train, he took deep,
reassuring breaths before going to seek out his mother after bidding goodbye to
Blaise who was also heading home for the holidays. He found his mother standing
regally and tall with that vaguely disgusted look upon her face as she looked
around at the milling people. He withheld a sigh and clenched his slightly
trembling hands as he walked towards her. When he reached her she looked at him
with cool indifference.
“Draco,” she greeted in her smooth honey tone, nodding her head.
“Mother,” he said in kind. He could feel the coldness setting in already from
being around her.
“Come along, son, we must get back to the manor,” Narcissa turned around,
instructing the house-elf accompanying her to grab the bags he had with him.
They were expensive dragon hide travel bags that his mother had said were a
‘necessity’ for short term travel. He held back another sigh and began to
follow his mother.
He really didn’t want to be here, or going home, but his mother’s letter had
been demanding that he attend home during the break. He had an idea of what
this was about though, unless his mother had a surprise she was planning to
spring. He really hoped not. When they reached the side that was designed for
any magical transportation he immediately looked for the familiar dark wood
carriage that the Malfoy’s owned.
The carriage was like the Hogwarts ones, only they were charmed to take a
person to a spoken destination instead of being drawn by an animal. The house-
elf settled his bags as he got in, and seconds later the carriage was speeding
towards its destination. The ride was a silent one, the silence heavy and tense
like any silences with his parents. He let his mind drift – back to Hogwarts,
back to Harry, and wondered what he was doing.
He knew the Gryffindor had been uneasy about the letter asking him home, and so
had he even though he had an idea of what the visit was about. But he wondered;
was Harry uneasy about Draco maybe being untruthful about his not wanting to
join the Death Eaters, or his safety? He hoped Harry trusted him when he had
said he didn’t want to be a Death Eater because he didn’t. Things had been
going great with the other boy so far and he didn’t want to bugger things up.
When he saw the scenery that had been racing by slowing, and then stopping, he
jerked from his thoughts, realizing he had been preoccupied throughout the
whole ride. They departed from the carriage and made their way into the manor.
As the house-elf went to take his bags to his room his mother stopped him with
a light touch to his shoulder.
“After you get settled in I want you to come down to lunch. We have a few
things we need to begin discussing,” Narcissa said in her light, indifferent
tone. Draco nodded his head, face set in the same cool indifference.
“Of course Mother,” he said simply. He went to his room, and the second the
door closed he breathed out heavily through his nose. It was always
uncomfortable and suffocating to be around his parents since the abuse started.
With another explosive sigh he walked over towards his bed and flopped
ungracefully onto it. Despite everything it felt good to be back on his bed, in
his room that was warm and familiar. It was one of the few rooms that held no
memory of abuse – at least not physical abuse. This was his haven in Malfoy
Manor, as yet untouched by the taint of his father’s abuse. It was one of
several places, but still the most cherished.
Since he still had a bit of time before he was to attend lunch he decided to
take the time to look around his room. Everything was as how it had been when
he left for sixth year. As he sat up from lying on the bed he looked around the
large expanse of his room and his eyes were drawn to the portrait to the left
side of his door. He smiled a small smile at the sight of it. The magical
portrait was of a beautiful panther in a lush, verdant jungle. The panther had
a coat of the most luxurious black, with a beautiful sheen and the most
enchanting eyes; they were green with an undertone of yellow – very haunting in
their intensity.
He had been seven when he got the portrait on an excursion with his parents. He
had been so enthralled with the beauty and intensity of the picture, even at
such a young age, that he knew he had to have it. He had asked his father to
buy it, and he remembered clearly what the man had said.
“Please Draco,” his father had said condescendingly. “Why would you want a
painting of a CAT? Their so...girlish, and I know I didn’t raise my son to be
feminine.”
But Draco had whined and demanded, and pleaded until, exasperated, his father
had given in. He knew Lucius HATED the portrait and that made Draco love it all
the more. Looking around at the beautiful painting he saw the panther lazing
around on a spot of lush grass. He smiled at it, running his fingers along the
frame before continuing his inspection. He walked around, brushing his hand
over things as he went; the dark wood wardrobe, the cream colored walls, the
walk-in closet doors. He wanted to take off his shoes and sink his feet into
the plush carpet, but knew time wasn’t with him.
He was glad to be here; in his room, even if he wasn’t glad to be at the manor.
He sighed as he made his way back to the closet. He knew that his mother would
want him in something different for lunch. He rummaged through the closet for a
moment before pulling out an elegantly casual slate blue robe and switching
into it. Running a brush quickly through his hair, he checked his appearance in
the full length mirror, and then steeled himself. He left the room and began
heading towards the Dining room.
Walking into the room the first thing he noticed was his mother, sitting at the
table looking over some papers. He seated himself across from his mother who
nodded at him with a cool smile. Immediately upon sitting house-elves began
appearing and started putting a nice spread for lunch on the table. Once the
house-elves disappeared both of them picked up their eating utensils.
“So Draco,” Narcissa began. “How has school been, you haven’t been writing as
much lately?”
Draco swallowed what he was eating and barely held himself from rolling his
eyes and saying some along the lines of ‘Like you care!’ Instead he said,
“Excuse my lack of correspondence mother, but school has been demanding. My
studies have kept me quite busy.”
“Yes, your studies are important, darling, and how are they going? Am I right
in assuming that your grades are what I – and your father – expect them to be?”
Narcissa asked. Her tone was casual, but Draco could hear the undertone beneath
the words. Draco barely held himself from cringing, but it was close. While his
mother knew of his abuse at Lucius’s hands and turned a blind eye to it, she
would use the threat – at least Draco considered it one – of what his father
would do, say, or want. It drove him mad because as much as he would like to
deny it, he was afraid of his father.
“My grades are excellent mother,” Draco replied. Then he added: “Father would
be satisfied.” He knew it wasn’t true. His father was hardly ever satisfied
with anything he did.
“That’s good to hear Draco,” his mother stated. There was a moment of silence
as they both ate a bit of their food. Draco was just waiting for his mother to
start in on the real reasons he was there. “Now Draco,” Narcissa said a moment
later. “I’ve asked you here these few days because there are important things
that need to be discussed. Normally the father of the family would be doing
this, but as we both know your father is currently indisposed,” she sniffed at
the last word, lip curled in disdain.
“You’ll be coming of age soon, and with that event comes responsibilities. You
will be the new Lord of the Malfoy estate and assets. There are things – duties
and such – you must uphold in the name of Malfoy. Your father would expect it,
as do I, and you do wish to make your parents proud don’t you?” she fixed
intense blues eyes on him, raised an eyebrow.
If being a murdering, raping bastard is upholding the Malfoy name, then no.
Draco thought, but said instead: “Of course mother, I do wish to make you and
father proud.” The words that had once made him feel special, important in the
eyes of his parents now left a bitter taste on his tongue, but he looked his
mother in the eye calmly.
“Wonderful darling,” Narcissa said light as if the conversation were about the
weather and not major things in his life. “We have five days to fully discuss
everything and you already know most of what is expected of you. We’ll talk
more on this.” They finished lunch in relative silence, though the food felt
like sawdust in his mouth. Afterwards, Draco left the table and headed back to
his room. He could tell it was going to be a long five days for him.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
After breakfast Harry and his friends left the castle for a day in Hogsmeade.
Walking into the wizarding village, the trio automatically made their way to
Honeydukes. Greeting the owners politely, they went about gathering their
craved confections, talking as they did. Once they gathered and paid for their
candy they left the popular sweetshop. From there they headed to Zonko’s upon
Ron’s insistence, much to Hermione’s disapproval. Harry found himself enjoying
the time they spent in the joke shop, the time spent with his friends. It felt
good not to be irritated by their presence, and not to feel guilty about that
irritation.
They spent some time in Zonko’s with Ron buying a few things, but mostly
scoping things out for the twins. Talk of the twins reminded Harry of the
Christmas presents they got him – pranks, a bottle of Ogden’s Firewhisky and
some other things he couldn’t remember – and made a mental note to thank them
next time he saw them. After leaving Zonko’s they headed towards Scrivenshaft’s
so Hermione could get some more quills and other stationary.
They trudged through the quill shop after their enthusiastic friend who became
momentarily enthralled with a new type of quill, and Harry had a good laugh
with Ron as the redhead made faces behind his girlfriend’s back. When Hermione
caught him in the midst of making a face, and Harry snickering silently behind
his hand, she had smacked each upside the head, paid for her things and left
the store in a huff. He and Ron followed, trying to look properly chastised and
failing miserably.
“So, where to for lunch?” Ron asked, rubbing his stomach for emphasis.
“How about Dickinson’s, we’ve only been there once since they’ve opened and the
food is rather good?” Hermione asked, looking at the two boys. Dickinson’s was
a new restaurant that had opened up in Hogsmeade a little over a month ago. It
sold a larger variety of food and drink than the Three Broomsticks, and the
food was delicious.
Harry and Ron agreed, and together the three friends headed for Dickinson’s.
With less students around it would be less crowded and easier to get a table.
Because of its popularity they were only able to go there once before out of
two visits to Hogsmeade. They made their way back up the street and to the
building diagonally across from Honeydukes. The front of the building had a bay
window that you could see the inside of. A rectangular, arced sign above the
window and door read ‘Dickinson’s’ in royal blue print.
They entered the shop and took a seat near the window. The inside was really
nice; not too formal, really, more of a casual feel and look to it. The floor
was a rich blue carpet and the walls were a rich cream with blue accents on the
baseboards. The contrast in the colors complimented the room nicely. Around the
perimeter of the room were several booths for larger parties to seat themselves
in along with light oak tables – circular and rectangular – that sat one to
four people depending on the table. The place was really good for a nice,
relaxing lunch.
Three menus appeared immediately as they sat down, hovering in front of them.
They plucked them up and began looking through them, talking as they did. Harry
brushed away the irritation and bit of guilt he felt at being irritated from
losing time he thought would be better used for his research. Things just
hadn’t been the same with the three of them that year, and Harry knew he was
somewhat to blame for being so closed and cold with Ron and Hermione. Finally
each selected their choice meals by touching the small pictures with the
descriptions under it of what it was. The menus disappeared, and they had only
about thirty to forty-five seconds to wait before the food popped up in front
of them.
After taking a bite of his sandwich, Harry spoke up, breaking the silence. “You
know, it feels really good to have such a lack in activity from Voldemort,”
Harry said quietly after swallowing. He deliberately ignored Ron’s slight wince
and almost choking. He was slowly learning to get used to hearing the Dark
Lord’s name, and not flinch with every mention of it.
“Yes it is, but it leaves the question of what he is doing in this time of
silence,” Hermione replied with a slight worried frown.
“Do we have to talk about him now, and especially with the break and
everything?” Ron pleaded, looking at them both. Harry sighed and pinned the
redhead with an intense look.
“Ron, an active Voldemort is bad enough, but a silent one could be even worse!
It means he’s lying low and planning something,” Harry stated, and then sighed
at the uncomfortable look on Ron’s face. “It’s almost the end of the school
year, you know.” He said giving Ron a pointed look before looking to Hermione.
She nodded with a solemn look.
“Which means Voldemort will more than likely be attacking soon, as per his
almost yearly custom,” Hermione said. Harry nodded stuffing a chip in his
mouth.
“Its just best to be prepared,” Harry said simply. Ron sighed, but finally
nodded agreement.
“Its just...easier not to think about it sometimes, to pretend there’s no Dark
Lord and no war,” Ron said quietly, then shoved a few chips into his mouth,
uncomfortable.
“We all like to pretend now and then Ron, but sometimes we just have to face
reality,” Hermione said, just as quietly. There was a tense, uncomfortable
silence for a moment, each lost in they're own thoughts.
“Last match of the year coming up,” Ron said abruptly, not-so-subtly changing
the subject. “We’ll need to really train hard when Easter break is over, with
the way Slytherin has been playing. We’ll need to really pound them into the
ground to get the Cup. Especially after the way they trounced Ravenclaw.” He
frowned slightly at that.
“Yeah they did beat Ravenclaw with a forty point lead, and that was without
Malfoy catching the Snitch,” Harry agreed, remembering the game intently.
Especially the way Draco sat astride his broom and the way he rode it. To clear
his thoughts, he shook his head to rid himself of the sudden assault of images
that hit him. “If that Slytherin/Ravenclaw match was intense, and anything to
go by, then we’ll have to push ourselves to the limit for our game.”
“Yeah, they’ll pull every dirty trick they can,” Ron spat vehemently, pointing
at Harry and nodding before biting into his sandwich. Harry saw Hermione roll
her eyes at Ron’s fervent tone, but the amused smile and fond look she sent him
was proof otherwise.
“You boys’ and your games,” she muttered, shaking her head.
“No talk of school or assignments, now,” Ron said with a disgusted look. “Let’s
talk about something else?”
“Like what?” Harry asked lazily.
“There’s been enough bad stuff this year so far, and I think you need some
distraction,” Ron said decisively. Harry had to hold himself from groaning.
“And I’ve prepared for such a thing, mate!”
“Ron...what are you talking about?” Hermione asked, looking at her boyfriend
warily, a stern look about her.
“Come on ‘Mione, you have to admit Harry could use a bit of fun after
everything that’s happened to him this year,” he replied, and gave the girl a
look. He turned to Harry then. “You remember the owl that came for me two days
ago? Well I contacted Fred and George, and they sent me a few things. We,” he
paused dramatically, holding a chip up like a torch. “are going to pull a
couple of pranks this break! You need this, Harry, because you’ve moped around
too much this year.” He smiled as he stuffed the chip into his mouth.
Harry stared at the redhead incredulously, frustration and the warmth of
friendship struggling in equal part inside him. It was nice to have Ron being
so determined to bring him out of his funk, but this was messing with his plans
of research. He forced a smile on his face, before taking a drink of his
Butterbeer. He supposed he could spare some time for fun for his friends;
really it wouldn’t kill him to do so. His research could be postponed a bit,
surely, for the sake of spending a bit of time with his friends? Yes, it could.
His smile turned a bit more genuine at this. Then he sat back and finished
eating while listening to Hermione protest to a determined Ron about his idea.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
When they got back to the castle Harry, Ron, and a reluctant and slightly
disapproving Hermione sat together and began planning the pranks. After a bit
they had dragged Ginny into their scheming and the four worked out who they
would prank and with what pranks they would use. They even ended up getting
Hermione into it a bit more, and by the time they each went to bed that night
they had a list of pranks and victims for the break.
Harry found himself with a small smile on his face when he laid down for bed
that night. It felt good to be doing something with his friends while also
knowing he’ll have enough time to research his idea and theories. Maybe, he
thought, this break won’t be so bad after all.
***** Plans, Training and Weird Hair *****

Author's notes: Check chapter one
===============================================================================
http://altreligion.about.com/library/glossary/symbols/bldefstriqueta.htm
http://www.fantasy-ireland.com/Celtic-knot.htm
I found the information for the symbol I’m using here and I am going with the
concept that “in the pagan mindset this design symbolized the connection of the
three planes of existence: mind, body, and spirit” taken from the second site
listed.
http://www.geocities.co.jp/Playtown-Toys/2331/pht/troll.jpg
And the above link shows a picture of a Troll Doll. Just imagine the teachers
with hair styled like this in the colors stated.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 20: Plans, Training and Weird Hair
March 30
The next day the four took some time to finalize all the details of the first
prank they were going to pull. They each had a good laugh over the images they
conjured as they hammered everything out after breakfast. Harry was really
looking forward to the pranks, and his enthusiasm over it was evident. He
decided to hang around his friends for the day, and pushed his research to the
back of his mind. He needed to make up for the neglect of his friendship in the
last several months, and he felt this was a good idea.
He spent the time after breakfast, and after the discussion on pranks, playing
a few games of Wizards Chess and Exploding Snap with Ron. He could see the
happiness in Ron from him being around and not being as defensive as he had
been, and felt that twinge of guilt inside of him. At least neither was asking
him annoying questions that he didn’t want to answer. So far the break was
turning out to be a good one.
After a hearty lunch he and the two Weasley siblings gathered a few others, and
held a mock Quidditch match on the pitch. They played for two hours, able to
get in two matches. The first one Harry played Seeker against Ginny who put up
a good challenge before Harry caught the snitch. The second match they switched
positions on the Seeker, and Harry played against some fifth year Ravenclaw,
while Ginny took up Chaser. When the match was done, and everything was cleaned
up, the group departed and headed back to the castle. When they got back to the
Tower the one’s who played separated to shower before dinner.
While showering, Harry decided to sneak down to his secret rooms that night,
and start a bit on what he had had planned. He would probably exhaust himself
with everything he had done that day, but he wanted to get started on his
research. After he was done he headed back to the common room, and sat with
Hermione to wait for Ron and Ginny.
“You’ve been a lot more upbeat lately,” Hermione commented with an appraising
look as Harry folded his legs Indian style under himself. He looked at her, and
made a noncommittal noise. “I’ve just been wondering about it is all. What’s
got you acting so much like the Harry of before? Are you just coming out of the
depression you’ve seemed to of been in, or is there someone that’s contributing
to it?” she continued, tone speculative, but a smile playing around her lips.
“Nothing, just coming out of the bad mood I was in, I guess. I mean, you can’t
expect me to be happy and carefree all the time with everything’s that happened
can you?” he asked with a helpless sort of shrug, hiding how uncomfortable he
felt about the questions.
Hermione hummed quietly and shrugged herself. “Maybe,” she said reasonably
enough. There was silence a moment, before she spoke again. “But whatever it is
I’m glad to see you happier than you have been.” Harry gave her a small smile
and nodded, not saying anything. If she knew part of the reason was their rival
and enemy Draco Malfoy, he doubted she would be so glad.
Not long after that conversation Ron and Ginny came down. They stayed in the
common room talking quietly about nothing particular until dinner time came
around. They went down to the Great Hall and feasted on the Easter meal that
was presented to them. It was a scrumptious meal with talking, laughter and
merriment, though Harry was slightly preoccupied. Between his thoughts on his
research and his worry for Draco he was torn in three directions as he tried to
keep in the conversations.
Dinner ended and they headed back to the Tower, full and sated after a good
meal. As soon as they entered Harry turned to Hermione with a small smile.
“Could I borrow that book you got from the library for my Charms essays?” He
asked.
Hermione returned the smile. “I took out several for my Charms essay, you can
look through them for yours, and use them as you wish,” she said, and hurried
up to the girl’s dorm. Harry went to his own dorm, retrieved his own materials,
and when he came back down Hermione was there with four books in her lap.
“I’ve already completed my Charms essay so you can use these,” she said, and
handed the books to him. He nodded, setting them on the table in front of him.
“Thanks Hermione, I appreciate it. I’ll give them back as soon as I’m done,”
Harry said before getting to work. Hermione was also working on something, and
that was how things flowed until people began to turn in for bed. Harry worked
on his essay, storing bits of information away for later use. He worked as the
common room began to become sparse of people as the other Gryffindors went to
bed. Hermione finally departed herself, claiming tiredness, kissed Ron who sat
across from her and left for bed. Harry cleaned up his work, gathering
everything together, and with Ron in tow, they headed for their dorm.
Harry mimicked, slowly, like he was going to change for bed as Ron changed,
climbed into bed and mumbled a half coherent ‘good night’ to him. He pretended
until he was sure Ron was asleep and then pulled his shirt back on, and knelt
in front of his trunk. He grabbed out his map and cloak, rummaged through, and
pulled out a pen and a spiral notebook, and shoved them into his bag that he
had also pulled out. With a narrow-eyed look at the trunk, he nodded to
himself, closed and charmed it shut, and then glanced around to make sure Ron
was asleep. Tapping the map with his wand he whispered, “I solemnly swear that
I am up to no good,” and waited. As he did so, he wrapped his invisibility
cloak around himself. With the all clear for the Tower and the sixth floor, he
quickly made his way out of the Tower.
He was careful as he made his way down the staircases and corridors until he
reached the Ground Floor. He carefully made his way to the hall before the
entrance to the dungeons, quietly hissed out the password, and slipped through
the shimmering, half transparent bit of wall. Once inside the sitting room, he
pulled off the cloak, and deactivated the map. Taking a moment to just breathe,
Harry rolled his shoulders, stretched his arms above his head, and sighed.
Then, with the invisibility cloak thrown over his shoulder, and the Marauder’s
Map shoved into his bag, he hitched up the bag and stalked towards the library.
He had spent the last two weeks occasionally coming to these rooms and
exploring them more. He had been positive that there would be a secret room or
two, being Salazar Slytherin’s and all. He had searched every room in the suite
and looked for every possible place a secret room would be. Three days before
Easter break, tired and prepared to give up on finding anything, if there was
anything, he’d gotten a breakthrough. He had been sitting in the chair in the
library, relaxing back with his head tilted to the ceiling, tired, frustrated
and disappointed. After a while he had risen from the chair and began walking
around the room.
As he was walking past the bare stretch of wall next to the bookcase closes to
the door something flashed in the corner of his eye. He turned to the wall and
looked at it intently for a long while, but saw nothing that could have been
anything important. As he turned back to keep walking he saw the object again,
and froze, looking out the corner of his eye at the spot on the wall that he
saw it. At first he really couldn’t see anything so he tilted his head slightly
and caught it, the faint glint of something on the wall.
Getting the position of it memorized and putting his hand just under it, finger
tips touching the bottom of it a bit, he turned around and stared hard at the
spot. At first he saw nothing, but upon closer inspection he could see the
faintest design, hardly a shade darker then the rest of the wall. Looking
closely, what he had thought was just a circle was really an ouroboro’s – a
snake eating its own tail. He could see the lightest of glimmers to it, and he
had touched it lightly, very curious about it. He had been sure that whatever
it was, it was the most likely thing to use for a secret room. After many, many
attempts at pushing on it and then spouting off possible passwords – both in
English and Parseltongue – he had been about to give up when a voice had made
him freeze.
Flashback
“I_can_help_you_out,_you_know,_you_silly_human,” a soft voice spoke quietly
from somewhere. Whipping his head around, Harry looked frantically for the
source of the voice. He could hear the hissing and knew that it was a snake.
“Who_are_you?_Where_are_you?” he asked in parseltongue.
“Ah_another_snake-speaker_I_see,” the voice said, sounding faintly happy. “Look
in_the_corner,_snake-speaker.” He looked into the corners of the room and then
saw it. It was a moving, white marble snake statue with glinting blue diamond
eyes.
“As_for_whom_I_am?_I’m_Seraphina_and_I’m_a_guardian_that’s_just_been
reawakened._And_you_are?” Seraphina asked.
“My_name_is_Harry,” he said, “Where_did_you_come_from?_You_weren’t_there
before._And_what_do_you_guard?”
“Hello_Harry,” she greeted and nodded her head. “I_was_invisible_and_silent
until_the_trigger_was_touched,_which_you_did._As_for_what_I_guard?_I_guard_a
few_things,”she said vaguely.
“Would_you_show_me_the_things_you_guard?” Harry asked politely, but cautiously,
not wanting to anger her. There was silence for a long moment as the snake
statue looked at him. Then...
“I_haven’t_been_used_in_so_long_and_would_gladly_like_to_be_of_use_once_again,
Harry._There_are_two_hidden_rooms_that_I_guard,” she tilted her head to the
side. “And_they_have_two_separate_passwords...”
End Flashback
Once there he walked in and sat the cloak onto the desk, then turned, and
looked at the back right corner. “Seraphina?” he called softly to the marble
statue that looked asleep, coiled around herself. He had asked her to remain
visible unless he asked otherwise.
Blue diamond eyes, previously dim, began to sparkle at him as she raised her
head. “Oh_hello_Harry,_how_are_you?”
“I’m_fine_lovely,” he said, stroking her back gently. He had fallen in love
with the beautiful living statue, and adored her greatly already. “Hmm,_I’m
going_to_be_using_one_of_rooms_for_a_bit.
Double-edged
,” he said. Seraphina nodded and a section of bookcase rotated inwards with
only a slight grinding noise. He had changed the passwords to his own as the
others had been just too confusing. He gave the statue a last stroke before
gathering his bag and cloak, and slipping through the bookcase, which closed
behind him.
Immediately upon entrance the dim light in the room brightened, and, taking out
his wand, Harry lit the torches to provide a bit of warmth. The room was
rectangular in shape and large with bracketed torches along the top of the
walls at about two foot intervals. Every third torch had a glowing glass sphere
atop it that provided more light to the room with the everlasting Lumos charms
encased in them. The walls had faint, light green vines painted on them going
straight up them on the four walls, crossing onto the ceiling and weaving
together to form an open circle lined in leaves a little less than half the
size of the ceiling. In the middle of that circle was a symbol – a triquetra,
Harry had found out after looking it up. It was painted black among the rest of
the green twisting vines in the middle of the blank circle.
Harry set his things down on the soft black rubber matting that graced the
floor that he had charmed and placed there, and turned back to the rest of the
room. Pulling a quill from his pocket he deposited it on the floor and stepped
back a few paces. Taking a deep breath he stared at the quill intently, raised
his hand and moved it like he would his wand. “Wingardium Leviosa!” he said the
spell firmly, but the quill only twitched slightly before stilling. He was half
frustrated that it didn’t work and slightly encouraged that it moved at all. It
was still a promising beginning to being able to do wandless magic.
Squaring his shoulders and taking another deep breath, he looked at the quill
again, swished his wrist ending with a crisp flick and intoned, “Wingardium
Leviosa!” The quill twitched and then began to slowly float into the air. It
floated up and Harry felt excitement creep up his spine before the quill
wavered and then fell to the ground. He breathed out slowly through his nose,
endeavoring not to become angry or frustrated, and really, there was no need
to. The quill had floated almost five feet or so into the air, on his second
try. That was enough to bring a small smile to his face.
He knew it would be slow work in some places, but he was hopeful that he could
accomplish his goal of being able to do wandless magic. Focusing his mind
firmly on his task he concentrated on getting the levitation spell to
perfection. It took a while but he was able to master the charm wandlessly and
keep the quill floating for an extended amount of time.
Feeling way too excited for the circumstances and not caring one bit about it,
he substituted the quill for something a bit heavier, and tried the charm
again. He was happy to see some of his theories were right, and that he COULD
do wandless magic. He would spend time over the rest of break working more on
his theories, and wandless magic, and slowly learning to control it. He was
determined to.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
March 31
The four of them were on their way to the Great Hall for lunch, and all too
eager about it. They kept exchanging amused, excited looks occasionally as they
went. They had snuck back into the Great Hall after breakfast, and after
everyone had left to put the plan in motion, and they couldn’t wait to see the
results.
Harry smiled to himself as he walked along, happy and excited for so many
reasons. Last night had gone well, though things had run into early morning
hours before he had quit. In the end he had been able to levitate five large
books easily, which gave him the thought that he could probably levitate
heavier things with practice. Having been so pleased with that outcome he moved
on to another spell to try. It had taken him a bit longer to Accio things to
him, but finally he was able to accomplish it. He was exhausted after only
those two spells, tired and drained, both physically and magically, but
ecstatic all the same. He was right about part of his theories; he could – and
would – be able to do wandless magic with a bit of work and determination. He
had felt so happy that morning at last night’s proof and progress that he had
little irritation towards anything. He was just too excited and happy.
They reached the Great Hall, and entered, sitting down at their table. Once the
Hall filled up the food began to appear on the tables. As they began eating
Harry passed a few surreptitious glances at the Head Table, and around the
Hall. The spell should be activating soon, and Harry couldn’t wait. Soon there
were several ‘pops’ echoing loudly around the Hall, and Harry looked up to the
Head Table, and burst into laughter along with many other people. Along the
length of the table every professor had brightly colored hair styled like that
of the Troll Dolls. It was immensely funny to see.
Pomfrey, the school Medi-witch, had bright, sunshine yellow hair that glinted
in the light from the enchanted ceiling. It shined like a bright beacon. Next
to her Professor Sprout was sporting a bright, violently orange color
reminiscent of the Chudley Cannons. Sinistra’s hair was vivid magenta and next
to her Vector’s was lime green. McGonagall’s hair was green, Slytherin green,
with silver streaks, and Harry nearly choked on his saliva at the picture she
made.
By now Dumbledore had conjured a long mirror on the wall behind them, and the
professors’ were looking incredulous and furious and amused at their
reflections. After McGonagall came Dumbledore who was looking greatly amused at
his rainbow colored hair, fingering it with a long finger and smiling. The DADA
professor, Devington, had a disturbing shade of sky blue hair which looked even
odder with his dark coloring. Harry gasped, and bit his lip when he saw Snape,
red-faced, with bright red hair streaked with gold. Next to him Flitwick had
shiny turquoise hair, and beside him Hooch had bright pink hair that could have
competed with Flitwick’s and Pomfrey’s for shiniest. The complete sight was too
hilarious for words.
Then Harry looked around the Hall to see random students sporting outrageously
colored hair. Looking to his friends, cheeks hurting from laughing so hard and
choking on more laughter he saw the results of their decision to also do
themselves, so as to relieve suspicions on their parts. Ron and Hermione had
done the spell for each others seats, picking the colors and keeping it from
the other to add surprise, as did Harry and Ginny. Ron and Hermione, who sat
across from him, had purple and sea green hair respectively, Ron’s freckles
made it even funnier. Turning, Harry looked at Ginny beside him whose hair was
an intense violet. Harry tuned back to look at the two opposite him, and saw
Hermione transfigure a fork into a mirror, looking in it, before passing it
around. When Harry looked in it he saw that his hair was neon blue with the
tips bright green.
The laughter in the Great Hall was punctured by the furious yell from the Head
Table. Snape was standing and seething, alternately glaring around the Hall,
occasionally focusing more on the Gryffindor table, especially around where
Harry and his friends sat.
“I know he did it!” the man spat loudly over the noise.
“Now Severus,” Dumbledore could be heard vaguely. “You don’t know that it was
him. Do you think he would do this to himself?” Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny
snickered to themselves. That day, Harry hadn’t laughed that hard in a long
time.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Severus scowled as he stalked the Halls that night. The spell had long since
worn off, and his hair was back to its usual greasy black, but he felt no
better than when he had first saw his hair in those atrocious colors. He was
sure that Potter, and his friends, had something to do with it, even if
Dumbledore thought otherwise. The boy was outrageously like his bastard of a
father, and his disgusting godfather; Severus knew he was. But Dumbledore
wouldn’t allow him to give the boy detention, and he felt distinctly upset
about it. But he could always punish the boy in other ways.
Walking down another corridor he let his thoughts shift to other, more
important things. Like his godson, Draco. He felt a lump of unease in the pit
of his stomach that had been there since the boy had left for the train. He
didn’t like the idea of him being there with his mother alone. He didn’t know
Draco’s stance on the Death Eater issue, but had been subtly trying to bring
the blond around, away from that path. The uncertainty about his stance, and
the fact that he was around his mother for five fays of the break, didn’t set
well with him.
He happened upon a couple in a nook, and berated the couple he found locked in
a passionate embrace, criticizing them harshly, then deducting points, and
sending them on their way. But even this did little to relieve the
uncomfortable feeling he felt. With an aggrieved sigh, he ignored the portraits
who complained about being woken up, and continued on his way. He knew that if
Draco was still looking to make Lucius proud – they really didn’t talk about
certain things – then becoming a Death Eater would be his last, desperate
attempt. He didn’t like the thought of Draco following that madman, and he
couldn’t exactly say what he would do, feel even, if his godson joined a man
Severus discovered too late was not the path to take. He still regretted his
naivety from back then; his actions of joining the Dark Lord. He didn’t want
Draco to do what he did just to try and please Lucius. He didn’t want the boy
making the same mistakes he had.
No, Severus Snape would try everything in his power to sway Draco from that
path; everything. And if he failed to do so...he’d worry about that when, and
if, he had to. Until then he would try to persuade his godson otherwise. He
couldn’t lose him. He wouldn’t if he could help it.
***** Visits, Arguments and Reconciliations, and The Mission *****

Author's notes: Check chapter one
===============================================================================
AN: Sorry for the lateness on this! Between catching up on emails and stories I
had on alert, and then having to change my schedule a bit to help out my mom;
I've been mighty busy. But here it is! I'll try to have Chapter 22 up within
two weeks. Its already typed up, I just have to go over it again to correct any
mistakes.
Chapter 21: Visits, Arguments and Reconciliations, and The Mission
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
April 1
Harry, Ron and Hermione were heading from the castle to the Shrieking Shack to
meet up with Remus Lupin. Harry had received a letter the day before during
breakfast from the man asking the three to meet him there. Harry hadn’t seen
the man since that one time during the summer, and wasn’t really sure how he
felt about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Remus; it was just that he
wasn’t sure about the visit. But all in all he did feel a bit happy to see him.
They made it to the Shrieking Shack by the front entrance instead of the
Whomping Willow and trekked into the place. Harry felt a brief, tight clenching
in his chest, and had to breathe deeply as the momentary lost of breath hit him
before leaving him with a slightly hollow feeling. This was the first place he
had seen Sirius whole and human and not in a paper, and the place where he
discovered the truth about his parents deaths aside from the well-known facts.
Breathing deeply, he swallowed thickly, and ignored the stares from his friends
that he could feel burning into him. He hadn’t thought it would be this bad
when he had found where they were meeting. He hadn’t thought it would feel this
way, honestly, and he was kicking himself mentally for thinking that way.
“Harry?” Hermione’s quiet voice spoke, but he heard it distantly, as if through
a tunnel. He was spiraling into that dark, cold place he hadn’t been in for so
long. He could feel the icy fingers of despair clutching his heart and he
gasped out a quiet breath, stumbling against the nearest wall. And all he could
see was Sirius, his mouth open in surprise, eyes wide and the laughter not
quite gone from them, body arching gracefully as he fell back, back, back
through –
“Harry!” a shout, and shaking, brought him back from the edge of – he didn’t
want to think about it, didn’t know really, and was glad for the distraction.
He opened his eyes – when had they closed? – and looked into worried brown,
amber and blue eyes. He swallowed again, vaguely appalled at his near breakdown
in front of Hermione, Remus and Ron, and averted his eyes. With a few long,
deep breaths he was slowly calming down, slowly coming back to himself.
“Harry, are you alright?” Remus asked looking at him with concern. Harry didn’t
trust himself to speak so he nodded his head, still feeling cold, but otherwise
back to normal. He was feeling slightly drained and a bit hollow too, but tried
not to show it. “Are you sure, you kind of seemed far away there?”
“Yes,” Harry croaked, then cleared his throat. “Yes I’m sure, Remus, nothing’s
wrong. I just...was remembering third year is all and how things have changed
since then.” Harry said looking at the man with a small smile. It was the truth
mostly. Remus looked at him intensely, but nodded his head, and squeezed his
shoulder. There was a strained look to the man’s face, a tightening of the skin
around the eyes and mouth. Harry looked to his friends and nodded to them in
reassurance. They didn’t look too convinced, but said nothing to him.
“Let’s go up to the room and sit down.” The four made their way to the room,
and Harry fought back the memories with an ironclad control. Chairs had already
been conjured for them, and they sat down. Remus pulled up a box and pulled out
a Butterbeer for all of them, handing one to each, and keeping one for himself.
“So, how are things going with you three? Anything new?”
The three smiled at each other, though there was still a bit of concern in
everyone’s eyes for Harry, and launched into a description of the day before
and their prank. They explained all the preparation they went through for the
prank, everything they did and then how lunch had played out. Remus was
laughing by the end of it, holding his sides with eyes bright with tears of
mirth.
“You should have seen Snape’s face!” Ron exclaimed through bouts of choked
laughter. “His face was almost as red as the hair color itself.” Ron smiled
gleefully.
“McGonagall’s was great too, with that green and silver hair; she looked so
appalled, but I think the colors suited her nicely,” Harry smirked. “See, we
each picked a person and I chose McGonagall, Dumbledore and Devington while Ron
took Pomfrey and Snape. We decided making his hair our House colors would
really irritate him. Hermione took Sinistra, Flitwick and Vector, and Ginny
took Hooch and Sprout.”
“Well,” Remus said, chuckling a bit still and shaking his head. “That sounds
like it made quite the sight, especially your own hair.” He smiled a bit
wistfully at Harry. He hesitated a moment, Harry noticed, before speaking.
“I...think, no, I know your dad and...Sirius would’ve been proud being the
pranksters they were,” he said softly, but firmly, his smile sad and warm, and
comforting all at once.
Harry closed his eyes as emotions ran rampantly through him. It made his chest
tighten to hear that, and for two different reasons. It was good to know that
his father and Sirius would be proud to see him pulling pranks on people like
they had, but it made him uncomfortable also. After viewing Snape’s pensieve
the year before he had felt mixed feelings about adding Snape into the prank.
On the one hand it would be nice to get a little of his own back for all the
man’s bad treatment towards him, but on the other it had reminded him too much
of what he saw his father do in the pensieve, and he hadn’t fully gotten over
the idea of his father as a bully. In the end he had decided to go through with
it. It was to be funny, yes, and a bit embarrassing, but he had decided no
where near as degrading as his father’s had been. Besides, it wasn’t his fault
Snape had no sense of humor.
Sighing he opened his eyes to see Remus staring at him worriedly and just
nodded his head, smiling weakly. There were just too many emotional things
occurring that day. Let them come to their own conclusions, he decided, because
there was no use explaining the twisted logic of my mind that they will only
try to comfort away with platitudes that will most likely make me angry in the
end. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt and just as he saw Remus open his
mouth he blurted, “So what have you been up to?”
Remus closed his mouth and frowned, and looked at him intently for a moment
that made him slightly uncomfortable, before speaking. “I’ve been doing a bit
of business for the Order, but I can’t really say what. Sorry,” Remus said
apologetically. Silence descended after that, mostly comfortable at first,
before turning tense and awkward.
“Harry, Ron and I are going to head back, why don’t you spend some time talking
to Remus?” Hermione said casually with a small smile. And Harry would have
fallen for it if he didn’t realize what Hermione was doing. She was going to
leave him and Remus alone hoping to get them to talk about Sirius. He felt
slightly agitated with her and glared, which she averted her eyes to and
ignored as she grabbed Ron’s hand and stood up. “We’ll see you back at the
Tower, alright? It was nice seeing you again, Remus.”
“Yeah, it was great spending time with you,” Ron said looking a bit confused.
“It was nice to see you two again as well,” Remus replied, and with waves and
smiles to both the two left the room. Remus turned back to him and looked at
him with a small frown. “How have you really been, Harry?” he asked softly.
Harry took a deep breath – he was doing that a lot today – and shoved his
irritation down. “I’ve been fine, like I said.”
“You don’t have to be strong all the time,” Remus said in that same soft tone.
Harry gritted his teeth and fought to control his temper.
“I’m not being strong Remus, I’m really fine. I’m getting on just fine,” Harry
said trying for a reassuring tone and sound slightly irritated instead. Remus
sighed quietly and leaned over to lay a hand on Harry’s.
“Harry don’t be upset, but Hermione wrote me a letter about a month ago stating
some concerns she had about you. It was very detailed in what she wanted to
express. She had written that you had been closed off and distant most of the
year, and that you’d become highly agitated whenever she tried to talk to you,
especially about...” Remus trailed off, and looked at him closely.
Harry had tensed at the words ‘Hermione’ and ‘letter’ in the same sentence,
knowing nothing good could follow those words. As he listened to the man he
felt himself flushing in anger at the audacity of his supposed best friend. He
understood her concern and worry about him, and he didn’t begrudge her those
feelings. But he didn’t like that she went behind his back when he obviously
didn’t want to talk about these things. He snatched his hand away from the
others and stood from his chair, knocking it back harshly. He glared at nothing
in particular before turning his intense gaze on Remus. “Bloody nosy, annoying
–” he broke off as he began to pace. “She had no right to do that! I didn’t
want to talk about it because I’d rather deal wit it on my own. Stupid_bloody
Hermione,” Harry ranted, switching to parseltongue, only half-aware of it. He
saw Remus’s eyes widen, before he turned to pace the other way.
“She wrote asking you to come and talk to me, and you decided Easter break was
just a smashing time!” He rounded on the man and glared at him.
“The letter gave me concern Harry,” Remus responded calmly. “Your responses to
my letters this past summer stated that you were “getting on fine” and that you
were “grieving and sad, but you’d be fine” and although I was skeptical at
first I began to think that maybe you really were fine. Then I received
Hermione’s letter and it didn’t sound like you were as fine as you’d said.”
“So, what, I’m not allowed to be by myself when I want to? I’m not allowed to
grieve in peace; I have to have everyone looking after me?” Harry spat, angry,
and hurt, and frustrated about the whole thing.
Remus looked at him sadly, but made no move to reach out to him. “It’s not that
at all,” he said. “You have people who care about you and are worried about
you, Harry! We just want to be there for you.”
Harry gave a short derisive laugh, head thrown back and arms spread wide. The
tone of the laugh had a bit of hysteria behind it making it sound sharper and
louder. “I had no one growing up, no one; until I was eleven years old I only
had myself. I’ve learned to get by my own way – on my own! You all want to “be
there for me,”” he sneered, lip curled upwards. “Then leave me alone, and let
me deal on my own like I always have!”
Remus stared at him wide-eyed as he breathed heavily, feeling his face hot with
anger. “Harry, we just want to help you if you’re have a hard time dealing
with...” the man trailed off and looked unsure. “anything.” Remus finished
quietly.
Harry breathed out slowly through his nose trying to release a bit of his
tension and anger. He really did understand what Remus was saying, but no one
seemed to understand things the other way around – from his perspective. “I
understand Remus, really I do.” Harry said his voice tight and strained with
calmness he really wasn’t feeling. “But what you, Hermione, Ron and others have
to understand is that I do something better on my own. If you pressure and back
me into a corner I’m only going to become angry and defensive. I mean, don’t
you have ways of dealing with things yourself?” Harry asked, looking at the man
intently. He conveniently ignored the fact that his ways of dealing sometimes
involved a sharp blade.
Remus looked back at Harry for a long moment and then sighed, nodding his head.
“I like to go off and be alone, someplace peaceful, where I can think, and let
myself figure things out on my own. It usually helps clear my mind.” Harry gave
the man a small smile at this.
“See, you have your way of dealing with things as everyone does, and I have my
own. It’s a way that works for me,” Harry said, standing still and looking
Remus in the eye.
Remus nodded returning the small smile. “Hermione just sounded so worried in
her letter. The way she described your behavior made it sound like you weren’t
doing so well. I was concerned.”
“Thanks,” Harry said and unclenched his fists. He was definitely angry with
Hermione. “I know she was only trying to help, but still.”
“Have you tried explaining what you said to me to your friends?” Remus asked,
beckoning Harry to sit again. He did, and looked at Remus with a wry smile.
“Probably not the best ways possible, but yeah I have,” he sighed and shook his
head.
”Well maybe if you try to explain it to them calmly...? And don’t be too angry
with Hermione, she was just worried about you.” Remus said. Harry nodded, but
otherwise ignored what was said about Hermione. Oh he was definitely angry with
her. Bloody girl just couldn’t mind her business.
“I should probably head back now. It was great seeing you though, all things
considered.” He stood from his chair, and gave the man a smile. It was true
even with all that was discussed it had been great to see the man again. Remus
stood also and smile back at him.
“Same here Harry. Take care of yourself, okay, and write me if you need
anything, anything at all.”
“I will,” Harry replied simply. They shared a brief hug before Harry turned and
made his way from the room. Remus had made him feel a bit better and while he
wasn’t as angry as before he was still pretty upset at Hermione. He made his
way back to the castle quickly, the fading light of afternoon testament to the
time of day it was. When he walked through the portrait Hermione was no where
to be seen, though Ron was sitting at a table playing chess with Ginny.
“Where’s Hermione?” he asked leaning against Ron’s chair.
“Uh, library, she said she was going there, and that she’d be back in time for
dinner,” Ron said absently, obviously focused on the game. Harry nodded and
rose to get his own seat for the time being. He sat back to watch the game,
deciding he could deal with Hermione later.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
After making it to his secret quarters safely and undetected, then stalking
through to the library and hissing the password to Seraphina unintentionally
harshly, he was now secluded in what he had deemed his ‘training room’ glaring
at the wall opposite the entrance. After dinner he had confronted Hermione, and
the situation had quickly spiraled out of control. They had yelled at each
other, said things that had left the other hurting and angry, and then each had
stormed away. He had waited until it was a little later, tense and frustrated,
and then gathered his things and left for his secret rooms. Parts of the
argument rang in his head, viciously mocking him, and enflaming his already
heated anger.
Flashback
“You had no right to do that Hermione! I told you to let me deal on my own, but
you just had to butt your nose into it, didn’t you?” Harry snarled, glaring at
the girl. They were standing in the middle of the common room that was filled
with their housemates who were all staring at them avidly.
“It was for your own good! Harry, you needed to talk to someone, and I figured
Remus would be the best choice since you shared a common bond. You had shared
grief there, and I thought I would write to him, let him know, and see if he
could help!” Hermione yelled back, breathing heavily and glaring just as
fiercely.
“For my own good? Do I look like a bloody child to you Hermione? Because I’m
not! Stop mothering me, your fucking annoying about it. My mother happens to be
dead if you’ve forgotten, and I surely don’t need one now when I haven’t had
one for the last bloody sixteen years!” Harry screamed back. The common room,
already silent from the start, felt even more so after this statement. Harry
noticed Hermione looking at him shocked, face flushed red, but Harry was too
angry, too far gone at this point.
“That’s right Hermione, she’s dead. Stop trying to fill the part because you
can’t and I don’t want you to. I’m not a child,” Harry spat.
“I don’t think you are,” Hermione said, quieter than before. “But the way you
have been acting calls to attention the fact that you’ve been acting like one.
All these tantrums when all I wanted to do was help make it seem like you ARE a
child.” She add quietly, but firmly. “I was just being a friend.”
Harry stared at her, face hard and eyes guarded. Then, he said quietly though
it rang through the silent room as if he’d shouted it, “Then maybe we shouldn’t
be friends.” The look on her face was of shock and hurt at these words. The
silence of the common room was harsh compared to the yelling that had took
place before, but the look in Hermione’s eyes spoke volumes.
End Flashback
After that he had turned and left the room headed for the dorm and warded the
curtains to his bed. He ignored Ron’s feeble attempts to get him to talk,
ignored everything until the redhead had given up. Now he stood, glaring at the
wall angry and hurt; angry at Hermione, angry at himself and just generally
angry. Taking a deep breath he let it out slowly and lifted his hand, palm up,
and intoned calmly: “Incendio.”
There was a large burst of flames over his palm, but not a ball of flame. A few
sparks burned his fingers and palm, but the brief starbursts of pain did clear
his mind a bit. Clenching his other hand, he breathed out again and said the
spell more firmly and commandingly. “Incendio!” He pushed his magic into his
palm, focusing on that point. There was another burst of fire, and then he felt
his palm heating up, but not uncomfortably so. He watched as the small spark
ignited into a palm-size fireball and hovered inches above the palm of his
right hand, casting a warm heat to it.
As the ball of flame hovered there inches above the skin, his anger seemed to
burn away, like the flame was burning it away. It wasn’t all of it by any
means, but a majority seemed to just die as the flame burned, leaving behind
hurt and a coldness that seemed to purposely defy the hot flame. As the muscles
of his arms flexed, he could feel the cuts –new and fresh and raw – stretch and
sting. He could feel the other wound – and abrasive lightning bolt cut, about
three or four inches long – that he made in a moment of despair, before
stopping the blood and lightly healing it. He had wanted the scar to remain as
he had with his other scars. He extinguished the flame by focusing on making it
recede, and die out, picturing it in his head. After it was gone, he sighed,
and fell to the floor.
He hadn’t meant what he had said to Hermione, it had just been the first thing
to come to mind, and he said it without thought. He had just been so angry with
her nosy behavior and her obsessive concern that he had blurted out the first
thing that came to mind with her last sentence. And he regretted now that he
had had time to think it all out. Ignoring the sting and burn of his cuts, he
pushed himself to stand. He decided to concentrate on his self-training and let
his emotions work towards that. He would talk to Hermione tomorrow, and try to
smooth things over. He didn’t want to lose her friendship because of his snappy
moods. So, squaring his shoulder and breathing deeply, he raised his hands, and
started again more determinedly.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
April 2
Like any other thing that spurred the gossip mill on, Harry and Hermione’s
argument was around the school the next day fairly early. He ignored the stares
at breakfast, more concerned with talking to Hermione who never showed up for
breakfast. Ron was awkward and uncomfortable around him, not wanting to choose
between them, he had said, and not wanting to anger him, Harry knew. Half of
Gryffindor was uncomfortable around him that morning. According to another girl
a year below them, Hermione had left that morning for breakfast, but apparently
never showed up. Harry decided to check the library after breakfast. Walking
there now he tried to decide what he would say to the girl; something to fix
the damage done, and hopefully not aggravate the situation further. He just had
to try and keep his temper under control.
Reaching the library he took a deep, steadying breath, grasped the doorknob and
swung it open, stepping inside. He immediately began searching for that
familiar bushy brown hair, but saw it nowhere. He walked in further, and then
saw what he was looking for in a far corner of the room. There were stacks upon
stack of books piled high, but not high enough to hide the brown hair that he
knew belonged to Hermione Granger. He headed towards the table, and sighed
softly, sitting across from her. There was a long moment of silence as he
looked at her, or rather the back of the book she held.
“Hermione?” he said quietly at last, breaking the long tense silence. There was
nothing but quiet for another moment, and just when Harry thought she wasn’t
going to talk to him he heard a quiet, “yes?” from behind the book.
“I’m sorry,” he said just as quietly. He knew it was barely adequate compared
to the argument they’d had, but it was all he could think of. He watched the
back of the book until Hermione lowered and looked at him, brown eyes sad.
“I’m sorry too,” she whispered. “It’s just that it feels like you’re slipping
away from us; all the secrets, all the need to be alone. If you’re struggling,
I just want to help, but you won’t let me, or Ron. I felt a bit useless with
all my failed attempts previously so I turned to the only other person I could
think of. Why won’t you let someone help you if you’re not doing okay?”
He sighed, and looked away from her, his eyes fixing on a book to his left,
sighed again, and looked back. Where to start? What to say? “Hermione, I’m used
to dealing with things on my own, always have been and, though I appreciate
your concern for me, I want to – need to – help myself deal with it all. You
cornering me and demanding I open up and spill everything wrong with me, it
only makes me upset. Even though I know its not, it makes me think that you and
Ron think I can’t do anything on my own, to cope on my own. You can offer a
chance to talk when I’m ready, but pressuring me isn’t going to help. Do you
think you could just back off and let me deal on my own, and I’ll come to you
or Ron when – and if – I need to?” he finished, looking at her closely. He had
kept his voice low and calm, determined not to blow up and start another
yelling match.
Hermione looked at him closely for a long time in silence, eyes searching his.
Harry looked back, waiting. Finally she sighed. “I was just trying to help
Harry. I thought...maybe you weren’t as alright as you said, and just didn’t
want to tell us. I never thought it could just be your way of dealing. I’ve
know you for six year and yet, I haven’t fully realized this until we’ve
shouted horrible things at each other. What kind of friend am I?”
“A good one,” he said simply, because it was the truth.
“I guess, but I still almost drove you away. I will let you deal with things on
your own Harry,” she said, and reached a hand across the table to touch his.
“Just know that Ron and I are here when you need us.” She gave him a small
smile which he returned.
“Of course Hermione. So, are we okay now?” he asked. Hermione nodded and smile
warmly, and Harry knew that things were okay, if not back to normal for now.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Draco stood on the balcony of his room staring into the black night sky with
vacant eyes. It wasn’t the first time since he’d been home for break that he’d
done this. This, though, had been far worse than Draco could’ve ever predicted
it to be. He absently scratched at an old concealed cut on his arm, as his gaze
roamed the sky. He watched the stars twinkle brightly against the black
background, and wished the nauseous feeling that had tormented him for three
days would go away.
He had expected the extensive talks about his inheritance, and what
responsibilities came with it. He had been prepared for the talk of what it
meant to be a Malfoy, and what was about to be passed into his hands because of
being said Malfoy. Those had all been expected; he had been prepared to sit and
listen to the lectures of what being a Malfoy meant. No real problem there, it
was all familiar territory to him. What he hadn’t expected was to receive a
mission passed down from the Dark Lord. Neither, was he prepared for what the
mission entailed. It was inconceivable, and yet not, that his mother would use
him in such a way, but it still hurt. And the objectives of his mission made
him uncomfortable and angry, and want to destroy something. He’d been feeling a
range of emotions since discovering what he was assigned to do, and at the
moment he was feeling empty, hollow.
His mission? He was to spy on Severus and find out where his true loyalties
lay. He remembered that particular conversation three days ago with vicious
clarity, and his stomach still churned at it.
Flashback
He sat with his mother in the lounge on the first floor having tea and
biscuits, and speaking about nothing in particular. Draco watched as his mother
took a dainty sip of her tea, saw the sharp look that gleamed in her eyes, and
steeled himself for whatever was to come. He didn’t expect the words that came
from her mouth.
“Draco, you know your first loyalties are to the family and the Dark Lord,
correct?” she asked, and Draco nodded feeling wary and uncomfortable. This was
the first time he was mentioned since he’d gotten there. “And you also know
that, as a Malfoy, and because of this, you have priorities above certain
others, responsibilities that take precedence over others, yes?” he nodded
again feeling uneasy, and even more wary.
“Therefore you will have no problem with the mission the Dark Lord has set for
you. An honor as he usually doesn’t set tasks to someone your age. Remember,
you have loyalty to our Lord, and your father, and I, over any other, and you
do wish to make us proud, do you not?” Draco nodded, and then cleared his
throat at his mother’s raised brow.
“Yes mother, yours and father’s pride and approval are all I seek. I know I
haven’t made you two very proud in the past, but I am ready to do anything to
do so now,” Draco was extremely happy his voice was steady as he spoke. The
words left a bad taste in his mouth and a disgusting churning in his stomach.
He felt like he may be violently ill, but kept his face impassive.
“Wonderful darling,” Narcissa drawled, and the look in her eyes made him even
more uncomfortable. “Our Lord wants you to spy on Severus and discover where
his true loyalties lay. I know he is your godfather,” she sneered. “and Merlin
knows why we named him that, but you have loyalties that rest before him, and
you will carry out this mission.” Draco had tried to keep an impassive face as
his mother talked, but he could feel his eyes widening and was sure he may have
paled a bit. Spy on Severus, his godfather? He felt his stomach churn again
with rising sickness and struggled to keep it down. He felt his heart beat
increase and wondered if he was about to lose it all in front of his mother. He
tried to focus on what his mother was saying again, feeling dizzy and
unsettled.
“And of course the Dark Lord has offered great rewards to you if you succeed,
and really Draco, it’s an easy task compared to others. Do you think you can do
it?” she asked, lightly mocking in her tone. Draco resisted the urge to growl
at her in anger. He hated himself for what he said next.
“If he is against the Dark Lord mother than I will find out and report it to
you, but it may take time. He is not very trusting, as you know, and no mother,
not even to me. But I will try and find the answer,” he said.
“Do, Draco, not try, but do! We can’t have a traitor and potential spy in our
midst,” she said sharply. Draco nodded feeling sick and sad, and just plain
angry.
End Flashback
He had been feeling empty since that morning, realizing that by tomorrow
afternoon he would be back at Hogwarts, and supposedly starting his mission.
His mother had asked him about any information he already had, if any, which
was none. He and Severus rarely talked about the Dark Lord, and therefore,
Draco knew next to nothing about Severus’s loyalties aside from that of the
Dark Lord which Draco couldn’t hold against him. Severus hadn’t pressured him
with talk of the Dark Lord and how great he is, and of joining him, not like
Lucius, and Draco was grateful for that. If anyone’s opinion mattered anymore
it was Severus Snape’s, but Draco didn’t know if he could spy on the man. Or if
he was a Death Eater he could follow in Severus’s steps.
He was too hurt and angry and confused now with everything coming at him. He
felt trapped, cornered, like he had no way out which was ridiculous to think
because he was sure there was a way out somehow. He had suspicions that maybe
Severus wasn’t so loyal to the Dark Lord, but they were only suspicions, and
that was a big maybe. He just wasn’t sure what to do. If Severus really was
spying on the Dark Lord he did not want to give the man up and blow his cover.
The idea of betraying his godfather was more uncomfortable than the thought of
betraying his parents. And to betray Severus to anyone, really, but to the Dark
Lord especially made him feel ill.
Looking at the sky, he shifted on his feet and felt a spark of anger within
him. It wasn’t unusual to feel random bursts of emotions in the last few days.
Right now, though, the emotion was anger. Did I not endure enough at the hands
of my father that I must give up the man who is slowly filling that spot? He
thought as he sighed and leaned back against the wall. How could my mother
truthfully ask me to do such a thing knowing how much I look up to him? It
wasn’t a new thought, none of them were. He’d gone though so many of these
questions and ideas that he was thinking in circles.
He had thought that maybe this was a test, and that all that ‘Make us proud’
spiel was to make sure he went through with his mission. Unfortunately for his
mother and father, he was less inclined to make them proud anymore, but
slightly unfortunately for him was that a small piece of him still wanted to
strive for that. And he was slightly torn between the two. He’d never felt like
this before, never had to deal with something so big – not counting his choice
not to join the Death Eaters – and he didn’t know if he could do this, spy on
Severus.
And all of this was making him tired, exhausted really, and sick to his
stomach. He’d been filled with rage at some points and so ready to break down
and cry like a child at others that he felt nothing but empty that whole day
since waking that morning. His mother had also decided that he could use a bit
of training on spells good for spying on people, and he had spent the majority
of the past two days learning and practicing these spells with his mother.
Shaking his head, he turned and walked back into his bedroom, closing the
balcony doors behind him. Tomorrow he would be returning to Hogwarts, and for
now, he decided to leave the decision undecided. Let his mother think he had
agreed. Getting under his covers, he turned on his side and clutched his pillow
to him.
It was another restless night for him as sleep evaded him for the third night
in a row.
***** Dracos Return *****

Author's notes: Check chapter one
===============================================================================
Sorry, again, for the lateness of this chapter. There's been a lot going on
that has kept me from posting. First off, I just found out about a week or two
ago that my dad has cancer, on top of that, I am a diabetic and havent been
feeling to well lately. So, I will gladly take any complaints on the lateness
of this and probably the next two or three chapters. Thank you all for sticking
with me and this story for so long. Now onto the chapter...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Chapter 22: Draco’s Return
Draco walked to the fireplace and reached for the pot of floo powder, grabbing
a small amount into his hand. It had been arranged that he would floo back to
Hogwarts to Severus’s rooms. The fireplace would be open for one minute in
which he was to leave before the connection was broken. Standing before the
fireplace, Draco could feel the weight of his mother’s stare on his back, and
he held himself stiffly under its force.
“Remember your mission, Draco,” she drawled, her voice smooth and light. “Do
not fail.” He forced himself to turn and look at her, eyes guarded and face
expressionless.
“I will do as you and our Lord wish, mother,” Draco replied evenly. She nodded,
and he returned it before turning around and tossing the powder into the
fireplace, and calling out his destination. He stepped into the green flames
and watched as his mother spun away, as he traveled several grates before
emerging gracefully into the rooms of his godfather.
“Welcome back, Draco,” Severus greeted, and Draco looked up from dusting his
clothes off.
“Hello, Severus,” Draco said, striving to make his voice calm. He guessed he
succeeded fairly well when the man smiled slightly.
“You’re just in time for lunch, have you eaten?” Draco shook his head, finding
it hard to be there with his mission so heavily on his mind. “Lunch will be
served soon then, if you’re hungry,” Severus said walking from the fireplace.
Draco followed behind him.
“I’m not hungry, Severus, I’m just going to go to my room and put my things
away. Maybe rest a bit also,” he shrugged. Severus raised an eyebrow at this,
looking at him closely.
“Come back later then. I wish to talk with you,” Severus said, still looking at
him shrewdly. It made Draco slightly uncomfortable and a bit irritated. He
nodded, though, and forced a small smile.
“I’ll be by before dinner,” Draco said, as he was leaving the room. He was glad
to not run into anyone on the way to his room, and immediately upon entrance he
enlarged his bags and set them aside. He ignored everything else and headed
directly towards his bedroom. From there, he went to his trunk and opened it,
canceling the Concealment Charm, and opening the hidden compartment. He pulled
out the dagger that rested in the invisible pocket and fell back on his arse on
the floor.
He hadn’t thought he would need it during those five days, no matter how much
he hated his mother, but as soon as he heard about his mission he had wished
for it. He knew he could have used something else, or that he could have just
transfigured something, but he hadn’t. He didn’t know why, though, considering
how desperate he had been for the cold, sharp blade.
Shaking his head, Draco took off his robe and rolled up the sleeves of his
shirt. He didn’t bother taking the Concealment Charm off himself, too in need
to waste anymore time. He pressed the blade to his skin and held it there for a
moment, before he dragged it, slowly, diagonally, across his wrist.
Immediately, blood began to bloom from the cut, slowly trickling down his arm.
But, he didn’t stop, and made another cut atop that one, diagonally, the other
way.
More blood began to trickle down his arm, sliding over the sides and onto his
pants. He ignored it, and made another cut atop the others staining his pale
skin in more red blood. He felt his despair and the cold helplessness retreat
some; felt the tumult of emotions that had been running through him for three
days begin to recede from the surface. He felt less suffocated and cornered,
and he sighed. He stared at the blood that dripped down his arm in big drops.
What am I going do? Draco thought, watching the red liquid impassively. What
was he going to do? He still hadn’t decided, but he knew he didn’t want to spy
on Severus. Problem was his mother expected him to write her with anything he
found out about his godfather. He knew he could write and tell her he had found
nothing, but his mother would become suspicious after awhile, and he couldn’t
afford for that to happen. He was stuck in a hard place, indeed.
Sighing, he picked up his wand and cast a cleaning charm to get rid of the
blood on himself and his clothes. He caressed the blade of the dagger with a
finger, almost tenderly, before putting it back in the secret pocket of his
trunk and recasting the Concealment Charm. He picked up his robe, dropped it on
top of the trunk and fell onto his bed.
He felt a little light headed from the blood loss, but his mind was clearer
than before. He still wasn’t sure about anything, though his mind was in a
slightly more peaceful state to be able to think about everything. Rubbing his
temples with his finger tips, Draco thought of his options for what seemed like
the millionth time. The best idea he could decided upon was to either spy or
not spy on Severus, but send his mother letters with either false information
or the truth – that he hadn’t found anything out. That was a good idea for the
time being, until his mother got impatient with his ‘lack of progresses’ in his
mission. Fortunately, she had much better patience than his father, and he knew
he could use this tactic for a good bit of time.
The other problem lay in what to tell his godfather. He figured it was probably
better to tell him what was going on for his safety, but the thought of
informing the man who was more like a father than his real one that he was
under watch for being a potential traitor made him feel uncomfortable. Besides,
he didn’t know if Severus was completely loyal to the Dark Lord, or not. And as
he was sure he didn’t want to be a Death Eater, did he really want to put
himself at a disadvantage, and let known – even to Severus, whom he trusted –
that he didn’t want to join the Dark Lord? That he didn’t want to be a servant
of some maniacal wizard, especially if Severus was loyal to said maniacal
wizard?
No, he decided, staring at the canopy of his bed, he didn’t want to put himself
in that position. Even with his godfather. Not until he found out what side he
was really on. And that would best be discovered by spying on Severus. Seemed
like it would come to that, no matter what he really wanted. Maybe I could spy
on Severus just enough to find out his loyalty? He had to look out for himself
here, after all his life would be on the line, no matter what Severus’s
loyalties were.
So, he would spy on Severus to determine his loyalty for his own sake, and give
his mother false information to keep her satisfied.
Draco sighed, something he seemed to be doing a lot lately, and pinched the
bridge of his nose. When the fuck did my life become so bloody complicated? he
wondered, with no small amount of irritation or desperation. He grunted and
rolled over onto his side, deciding to rest for a bit, before he had to contend
with his godfather.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Severus knew there was something wrong with his godson the second he had
entered from the floo; it was only too obvious by the rigid way he had held
himself. Draco only stood that way when he was either angry about something or
something was plaguing him too deeply to let him relax. Severus was suspicious
and concerned about what could have happened to Draco the past five day’s.
He had thought over it all through lunch, and now, sitting in his quarters, he
puzzled over what could have happened at the manor these last five days. He
ruled out Narcissa harming Draco physically in any way, because as much as she
was a cold person towards her son, she had never laid a hand on him, preferring
to let her husband do it. And even with Lucius currently incarcerated, he
didn’t think Narcissa would take up her husband’s role. She was too much the
aristocratic, pampered princess to do anything physical like that unless she
absolutely had no other choice.
Then again, maybe it was just being back home and around his mother. He was
always a bit more agitated when coming back to Hogwarts after summer vacation,
which hadn’t changed with Lucius’s arrest. But he didn’t think he was seeing
more into it. When it came to Lucius or Narcissa one could never see too much
into anything involving them. And that was why he was so concerned with what
could have happened these last five days.
A series of knocks at his door startled him from his thoughts, and he looked up
at dark wood. “Come in,” he said shortly, and a second later Draco stepped into
room. He watched as the boy closed the door, and walked over to fall into the
chair opposite him. Severus quirked an eyebrow, and looked at the blond calmly.
“Did you have an eventful time at the manor?” Severus asked.
Draco looked up from the low burning fire, and shrugged. “It was okay. Exactly
what I thought it would be about; my inheritance, and all the wonderful little
things that come with it,” Draco said sarcastically. “What about you, Severus?”
The Potions Master grimaced at the question, his mind flicking back to that
prank that he was positive Potter had something to with. “These last five days
have been a trial in patience. Potter pulled some childish prank on the school
that the Headmaster refuses to acknowledge that Potter was behind,” he sneered,
still upset that his hair had been red and gold. Draco looked at him curiously,
a smirk struggling to work its way onto his face.
“And what was Potter’s prank?” Draco asked. Severus frowned at him, not finding
his amusement anything but irritating. “Ah, come on Severus! I just spent five
days discussing and being lectured at about my inheritance and the
responsibilities of a Malfoy when I come of age. I need a laugh, even if Potter
is the cause of it,” Draco complained lightly, smirk evident on his face now.
Severus sighed, irritated, but told Draco about what had happened grudgingly.
When he was done, Draco was clutching his stomach and laughing loudly, tears
falling from his eyes. Severus was torn between relief to see his godson
laughing and annoyance that he was laughing at him. He settled on glaring at
the blond. Draco looked at him and laughed harder.
“If you’re quite finished,” Severus snapped when the blond’s mirth didn’t die
down.
“Sorry Severus,” Draco said between chuckles. “It’s just…imagining you with red
and gold hair and McGonagall with green and silver,” he broke off into another
bout of laughter. “Wish I had been here to see it!”
“I’m sure,” was Severus’s dry reply. “So, how is your mother?” Draco’s laughter
stopped immediately, and he looked startled by the abrupt change in
conversation. It had been what Severus had been going for – the act of surprise
to unbalance the boy a bit. He watched as Draco’s face cleared, falling into an
expressionless mask.
“She’s fine,” the blond said flatly. “Same as usual; cold, indifferent, and
regaling tales of travels she’s taken while I’ve been at school.” Draco turned
back to the fire, and stared into the flames.
Severus stared at his profile for a moment, letting the silence surround them.
While his face was blank, there was no hiding the sudden tightness to the boy’s
features. Oh yes, Severus was sure something more than what Draco had said, had
happened. But getting Draco to talk wasn’t going to happen. Whatever it had
been, it was a heavy burden for the blond. He briefly toyed with the idea of
using Legilimency, but dismissed it. Draco had taken lessons in occlumency from
Lucius, not to mention himself. While Draco wasn’t perfect at it he was good
enough at it. Besides, Severus knew Draco trusted few people, and he didn’t
want to abuse the trust his godson had in him.
Casting a quiet Tempus, he saw that it was close to dinner time. “You’re coming
to dinner, I presume?” Severus said, looking at Draco who looked lost in
thought. The blond looked up, blinked, and then nodded his head.
“Yes,” he said quietly. Severus nodded back, and then they lapsed back into
silence again. Severus decided to leave it be for now, though normally he
wouldn’t give up that easily. Whatever was bothering Draco, he would stand back
and let Draco try and work it out on his own. He would step in if need be.
Sometimes, he found, it was the best way to deal with things, especially with
his godson.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
He glanced at the door again, keeping an eye on his friends as well to see if
they saw him doing it. Today was the day that Draco was supposed to come back,
and Harry was anxious to see him. Harry turned back around, and took shoved a
fork full of food into his mouth, chewing it absently.
While things among the trio had basically gone back to normal, there was still
a tension there that was all too evident to the three, even if it wasn’t to
anyone else. They were struggling past it, and it was hard with all the other
things that had passed between them. It seemed to hang like some invisible
blanket over the three of them. Harry held himself back from sighing aloud,
wondering when things in his life had turned upside down so much, and what the
hell would happen next.
“Oh great,” Harry heard Ron groan quietly, and he looked up at the redhead.
“Looks like Malfoy is back early.” Harry looked up towards the Great Hall doors
to see Draco walking towards the Slytherin table, and frowned slightly. The
blond looked a bit haggard, though it wasn’t too obvious. There was stiffness
to the other’s stance, and tightness to his face that wasn’t so prominent the
last time Harry had seen him, or so he thought. And Harry absently wondered
when he started watching the other so closely. He looked back down to his plate
and forked a bit more into his mouth. He looked up again when Hermione began to
speak.
“Why are you wondering why he’s back so early? I’m sure there are no bad
reasons for it. Besides, Malfoy has been pretty tame so far this year, if you
remember. He only called me a mudblood twice, and that was in the very
beginning of the year,” she said. Harry stared at her, as did Ron, vaguely
realizing he hadn’t seen this little revelation before now. Draco still
insulted them when they crossed paths to keep up appearances – and, really, he
didn’t like Ron and Hermione anyway – but Harry hadn’t realized the blond
hadn't called Hermione a mudblood in so long.
Harry wasn’t naïve, though, by any means. He didn’t believe for one second that
Draco did it out of respect for him, of course, but he did wonder why the other
hadn’t used the term so much. Narrowing his eyes, Harry turned his gaze back to
the blond for a moment, even as he listened to the conversation going on.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Ron said with a snort. “He’s still a slimy
bastard.”
“Well, yes, he’s still an annoying brat, but that doesn’t change the fact that
he hasn’t called me a mudblood in awhile,” Hermione replied with that resolute
tone.
“No, it doesn’t. But why? He could call you that any time he wanted to, but he
hasn’t,” Harry said absently, not really having to fake his curiosity. He
really wanted to know the reason, but he wouldn’t bring it up to Draco. It was
better to leave well enough alone with that subject. He looked away from Draco,
and turned back towards his friends. Hermione was looking at him thoughtfully,
and glancing at the Slytherin table. Harry tensed, wondering if Hermione knew
something, or was figuring out something he’d rather her not.
“Who knows?” she said slowly, before shaking her head, and shrugging. Harry let
out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Who bloody cares?” Ron quipped with a roll of his eyes, shoving food into his
mouth.
I do, Harry thought. Hermione huffed at Ron, and muttered something
unintelligible, but the topic was dropped. The rest of dinner passed in lighter
conversation.
As they were walking out of the Great Hall, Harry felt a light brush down his
arm to his hand where something was place, and he looked up just as Draco
walked past with Crabbe and Goyle. The blond didn’t look back. Harry slipped
the note into his pocket to read once he got a chance.
The trio went back to the Tower and Harry excused himself briefly to read the
note. Draco had asked him to come to his rooms tonight, and Harry felt a smile
pull at his lips. He would admit, if only to himself, that he had missed the
blond. He went back down to the common room soon after and spent time with his
friends until everyone began heading to bed. He went to his own dorm and waited
for Ron to fall asleep, before grabbing his Invisibility Cloak and the
Marauders Map, and then making his way silently from the Tower after charming
his curtains shut. Glancing at the map every once and awhile, he made his way
down into the dungeons, having to dodge Filch and Mrs. Norris in the process.
He stealthily made his way to Draco’s room, and looked around cautiously,
before knocking on the portrait frame. He deactivated and pocketed the map
while he waited. It was a moment before the portrait cracked open, and Harry
slipped through it. He took off his cloak once the portrait was closed again,
and had hardly gotten three steps before he was slammed against the wall. A
mouth was immediately on his, kissing him hard and almost desperately, arms
wounding around his shoulders.
Harry was momentarily shocked by the abrupt action, staring wide-eyed at the
pale bit of forehead and blond hair, before closing his eyes and sliding his
arms around the lithe body and kissing Draco back. He was definitely surprised
about the desperate way Draco was kissing him, and it only increased his
suspicion that something was wrong with the blond. Five days wasn’t long enough
for Draco to kiss him like this. Shutting out all thought for a moment, Harry
slid his tongue alongside Draco’s, tightening his hold briefly.
Draco finally eased off the kiss and pulled back, resting his forehead against
Harry’s shoulder. Harry leant his head back against the wall, looking at the
blond through hooded eyes. Both were breathing heavily.
When his breathing was back under control, Harry closed his eyes and sighed.
“What was that about? Not that I’m not happy you’re back,” Harry said quietly,
beginning to run a hand through blond strands of hair. He felt more than heard
Draco sigh against his shoulder.
“Nothing,” Draco drawled the word out, stepping back from him. There was a
slight smile on his face, but Harry wasn’t fooled. He dropped his arms from
around the blond’s waist, and looked at him closely. “What?”
“Something’s wrong,” Harry said flatly, not taking his eyes off of Draco’s. “I
noticed it when you came into the Great Hall, and I can tell now too.” Draco
said nothing, but the slight tightening of skin around his eyes and mouth,
almost unnoticeable, were a testament of either Draco’s annoyance, or whatever
was really bothering the other boy.
“I told you, nothing’s wrong. I meant it,” Draco repeated with a shrug, turning
from Harry and walking towards the chair by the fire and flopping down into it.
Harry snorted, and bent to pick up the fallen items, before making his way over
towards the couch and sprawling on it.
“Liar,” Harry commented easily, looking at the ceiling. “You looked upset when
you came into the Great Hall. And we’re alike, in that we always say we’re fine
when really, there’s something wrong.” There was an annoyed sighed in the
general direction of where the Slytherin was sitting, and a small shift as the
blond moved in the chair.
“You know what I told you about my mother! It was bloody stressful being around
her for five days after spending almost no time with her during the summer. I
didn’t have to endure the woman’s presence then, but had to for five days
straight, alone. Of course I may seem a little tense. Give me a break, Harry,”
Draco said in irritation.
Harry turned over onto his side, and looked at the Slytherin hard. “Are you
sure nothing happened, Draco?” Harry asked skeptically, knowing he was probably
pushing it.
“Bloody hell, Potter,” Draco snapped, glaring at him. Harry merely stared back
having learned to deal with Draco’s moods by now, as Draco did him. “I said I
was fine! Let it go,” he said, scowling. Harry sighed, but mentally conceded.
He didn’t like to be pushed to talk when he didn’t want to, and he wasn’t going
to do it to Draco. Instead, he rose smoothly from the couch, eyes still locked
on Draco’s, and walked the few paces to where the blond sat. He clutched the
arms of the chair, and leaned slightly over the sitting boy.
There were still vestiges of anger in the gray eyes, but Harry didn’t let that
discourage him. He leaned down slowly, holding Draco’s eyes, before closing his
own as he pressed his lips gently against Draco’s. There was a moment where
Draco didn’t react, and then he began to reciprocate. Harry bit softly into
Draco’s bottom lip, to which Draco gave a soft sigh, opening his mouth. Harry
eased his tongue in, flicking it against the others. Harry moved one hand from
the chair to entangle in Draco’s hair as he deepened the kiss.
He could still feel the tension in Draco’s body, and he sighed; partly in
pleasure from the kiss, and partly in weary acceptance. Draco was way too tense
and in need of a little distraction from whatever was bothering him. He ended
the kiss with a lingering one to the corner of the blond’s mouth. Draco’s eyes
opened, and he stared back at him silently. Harry rubbed a thumb gently over
Draco’s temple, before slowly trailing his hand down cheek and jaw, and neck
and chest until he reached the top of blue silk pajama bottoms.
He was a little nervous about what he planned to do; Draco and he having gone
no further than hand jobs. But this had been on his mind, along with other
things, but Harry pushed those thoughts away for the moment. He had done it a
few times before, during the summer, but was surely no expert at it. Swallowing
his nervousness, Harry leaned down to Draco’s ear, and whispered, “Lift up a
bit.” Draco looked at him with wide eyes, but did as he was told. Harry hooked
his fingers in the waistband and tugged them down.
It was slightly new what they were about to go into; they’d touched the other
without the barrier of clothing, but had never actually seen each other naked,
shirtless, yes, but not naked. When he had the pants tugged down slightly, and
Draco was situated back into his seat, Harry felt that nervous trying to creep
into him again. He stamped it down relentlessly, as he took a deep breath, and
knelt in front of a wide eyed Slytherin. If someone would have told him five
months ago that he would be in this position with Draco Malfoy, of all people,
he would have laughed in their face, and possibly hexed them. But here he was,
on his knees before Draco Malfoy about to give him a blow job. A burst of
laughter, most likely hysterical, bubbled up in his throat, and he swallowed
again.
“Harry,” Draco said quietly. He looked surprised and slightly dazed, Harry
noticed, before he leaned forward and kissed the blond passionately.
“Shh,” he breathed when he’d pulled back. He trailed kisses down Draco’s jaw
and neck, even as he finished tugging the pants down to Draco’s calves. He
trailed his hands lightly up the blond’s thighs as he bit gently, but firmly at
a spot on Draco’s neck. He pulled back as his hand reached the hard length of
Draco’s cock, and, with one last look at Draco’s face, Harry looked down at his
hand.
Not being an expert on measurements, Harry couldn’t say whether Draco was
bigger than average or not, but Draco wasn’t as thick as some he had scene, and
he was uncut. He bit his lip, and glanced up at the blond through his fringe
and lashes, feeling remarkably shy, before leaning forward and running the flat
of his tongue from base to head. Draco sucked in a breath sharply. Circling his
tongue around the tip, he pulled his hand up from the base slowly and then back
down, pulling the foreskin back in the process. He swirled his tongue around
the tip again, before taking just that much into his mouth.
Above him, Draco made an inarticulate sound, sliding a hand into his hair.
Harry felt the long fingers weave through his hair, and, feeling encouraged, he
gave a firm suck to the head of Draco’s penis. He vaguely heard a deep moan
from Draco as he took a bit more of Draco into his mouth, shaping his tongue to
the underside. He pulled back up, sucking as he went before going back down and
taking a bit more in. He wasn’t that skilled at this, at least in his opinion,
and if you asked him, he’d tell you he was mediocre at best.
He moved his hand in tandem with his mouth, applying firm suction, and a firm
grip of both lips and hand, relaxing his throat at every bit he took in. Draco
cried out, tugging on his hair, and mumbled something that Harry didn’t really
understand. He dismissed it and moved his other hand to fondle Draco’s balls,
rolling them in his hand, and ignoring his own erection. He could taste pre-
come, bitter and salty, but not altogether unpleasant, on his tongue, and he
moaned lightly around Draco as he went.
“Harry, fuck! Do that again,” Draco groaned, thrusting shallowly into Harry’s
mouth. Harry gently scraped his teeth against the underside of Draco’s cock
again getting a strangled sound from the blond. He took as much of Draco in as
possible, bobbing his head up and down Draco’s length. Using the hand on
Draco’s balls, he moved his hand until he was pressing a finger against that
spot just behind Draco’s balls. Pulling his mouth up a bit, but still moving
his other hand up and down Draco’s shaft, he massaged that spot, and sucked
firmly on Draco’s penis.
Draco whimpered above him, thrust up, and came with a long, drawn-out moan.
Harry tried to swallow, but couldn’t take it all, and some spilled from the
corner of his mouth. When the blond was spent and had sagged back into the
chair, releasing his hair in the process, Harry pulled off Draco and wiped his
mouth. He reached for his wand from the pocket of his discarded hoodie, and
cast a quick cleaning charm, noticing his voice was raspy and hoarse. He was
stalling at having to look at Draco, and he knew it. He stayed knelt on the
floor, nervous about what the other would say, and achingly hard. He rose and
sat back down on the couch. Finally though, he looked up at Draco, and saw that
the blond was flushed and breathing heavily, looking back at him with a
slightly dazed looked in his eyes.
“I, er, just thought you could use a bit of stress relief,” Harry half-mumbled
shyly, trying to sound casual, and failing.
“Harry,” Draco began slowly, looking a bit more focused. “That was…bloody
amazing! Where the hell did that come from?” Draco exclaimed.
“You mean…it wasn’t bad?” Harry asked carefully.
“No, it was really good,” Draco replied.
“Uh, alright then,” Harry said simply, nodding his head. Draco graced him with
a smile, one of those smiles that he didn’t give often.
“But, you know what?” Draco asked, pulling up his pants, and rising from his
chair. Harry felt curious, as Draco walked towards him, and looked down at him.
“What?” Harry asked. Draco smirked, and knelt in front of him, putting his
hands on Harry’s knees and rubbing lightly. Harry’s breath hitched.
“I think I should return the favor, don’t you?” Draco practically purred,
moving his hands up Harry’s thighs. Harry stared at the blond as one hand
reached the waistband of the pajama bottoms he wore, and the other began to rub
firmly over the bulge in his pants. Harry moaned lightly at this, and thrust a
bit into the hand. Without being asked, Harry raised his hips off the couch
some, and Draco pulled them down, exposing his hard penis.
Draco pulled the pants down to his ankles, before leaning forward and kissing
him firmly, deeply, on the mouth. Clutching a hand around the base of his
erection, Draco began to stroke firmly as they kissed. Harry moaned as those
long fingers and that smooth palm caressed his erection, squeezing lightly in
different places. Harry placed a hand around Draco’s neck, and pulled him in
closer, deepening the kiss. Draco pulled back, smiled at him, and took him into
his mouth.
As Draco worked him, bobbing his head slowly, and stroking his length with his
hand, Harry threaded his fingers into the soft blond hair. The other hand was
thrown across the back of the couch, and his head was leant backwards as he
panted for breath. Draco sucked him in deep, and then hummed lightly.
Harry jerked and hissed at the sensation. “Oh bloody hell,” he breathed out
through clenched teeth. If his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, Harry was sure
Draco would be smirking for all he was worth at his reaction.
Draco pulled back up until only the head was still in his mouth and sucked,
flicking his tongue into the slit. Harry cried out loudly, and thrust into that
warm mouth. He felt Draco moan as his hand moved from his thigh to his balls,
rolling them in his fingers. Harry shuddered out a breath, feeling the tight
coil of arousal in his belly. And when Draco took him in deep again and hummed
around him, Harry felt his orgasm crashing into him, felt himself tensing and
then coming hard with a loud groan. He struggled to open his eyes, and then he
looked down at the cascade of blond hair in his lap and at the slightly bobbing
head.
When Draco finally pulled off him, he looked up at Harry and was licking his
lips with a satisfied look in his eyes. The sight was fascinating. Draco’s lips
were red and swollen, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes were hazy and his hair
was mussed. Without a second thought Harry leaned down and thoroughly kissed
the blond, tasting himself on the others tongue.
When oxygen became a necessity they pulled back, and both were panting. When
Harry got his breathing under control, he grinned at Draco. “Wow,” he said
dazedly, and felt himself blush at what he said. Draco looked amused.
“I’m guessing you liked it,” Draco sounding smug and amused as he looked at him
with a smirk. Harry glared half-heartedly, before smirking also and pulling
Draco in for a hard kiss.
“Smug prat,” Harry muttered when they pulled back again. Draco was now leaning
over his lap between his legs with his elbows on either side of his thighs.
Draco’s weight was pressed comfortably on him as he rested there.
“Are you staying tonight?” Draco asked after a moment, tone light. Harry bit
his lip, and then nodded slowly. “Yeah, I am. But I’ll have to get up early to
get back to the Tower.”
“Hmm,” Draco said noncommittally. “I have a question for you, Harry. Where’d
you learn to do that anyway?”
Harry looked at him startled, before flushing pink. “I told you about my
summer,” Harry said evasively.
“Yes, you have, but I want to know about where you learned to give a blow job.
It can’t be natural talent. You’re naturally good at many things, Harry, but I
doubt this is one of them,” Draco said, quirking an eyebrow. Harry flushed
deeper, and shifted as best he could. Draco grinned, and rose from the floor,
sitting on the couch with his back to the arm. He looked expectantly at Harry,
a smirk playing on his face. Harry sighed, and sat in a similar pose after
pulling his pants back on, half facing Draco.
“You remember what I’ve told you about my summer, right? Well, one of Andrea’s
friends was this guy named Jake. At the time I was still struggling with the
fact that I found boys attractive, and I really thought he looked good. He had
short blond hair, and blue eyes. He noticed my interest in him, and we talked.
I wanted to know things that I didn’t know how to ask anyone else; how did you
know you liked boys? When did you realize it? Things like that. We talked, and
he helped me understand and accept it a bit better, that I liked boys. And he
also,” Harry coughed, and could feel himself blushing. “taught me a few things,
gave me a few tips.” It had been an experience all on its own. He had learned
much from Jake in the short time they spent together. He would say that the
other was his first actual crush on a boy. They hadn’t gone pass blow jobs, but
Harry was grateful for what the other boy had helped him with, sexual
experience aside. Jake had helped him slowly begin to come to terms with being
bisexual.
“So, this Jake person helped you accept you were attracted to your own gender –
as well as girls – and taught you how to give head properly,” Draco stated,
looking at him. Harry nodded, realizing it might some a little weird. “I didn’t
really have anyone to reassure me about liking my own gender, not really, but I
did have someone who instructed me on pleasing another boy. So I guess I can
understand.”
“But you’ve come to terms with it,” Harry pointed out, the hint of a question
in his voice. Draco frowned, but then nodded slowly.
“Yeah I have, but it was also helped along by the thought of rebelling against
my parents. Stupid, I know, but my parents always talked about the day I would
marry some pureblood witch and create an heir to carry on the Malfoy line. In
the beginning I didn’t think anything else, but as the abuse came – and as I
got older – I began to think for myself. I started to question things.” Draco
sighed, and then smiled a bit sardonically. “I’m a tad fucked up.”
Harry chuckled at this statement from the blond. “You’re not the only one,”
Harry smiled wryly, nudging Draco’s calf. A wide yawn broke from him, and he
covered his mouth. Draco chuckled.
“Come on, I can see you’re tired,” Draco said. They rose from the couch, and
headed to Draco’s bedroom. Harry was already in a loose pair of sleep pants and
a short sleeved shirt, and since Draco was already in his bed clothes they
climbed into the bed. They arranged themselves so Draco lay on his stomach with
an arm thrown across Harry, who lay on his back. The two drifted off to sleep
not long after.
***** Pranks, An Old Mans Musings, and Saying Goodbye *****

Author's notes: Check Chapter One
===============================================================================
Hey everyone! Once again, sorry for the length of wait for this chapter. I will
try to update sooner, but I can't promise anything. I've got a lot going on and
trying to get these chapters out at the same time is rough. I am determined to
finish this story and start working on the sequel. There is going to be a
sequel! I don't know how long after I finish RC that the sequel will be out,
but I will try my hardest to get it out soon after. But, since I'm such a bad
author with updates, I will give you a hint of what is to come. In a few
chapters - I'm not telling which one - Harry and Draco's secret will come out.
They are soon to be discovered as self-mutilators. I have the chapter written
up and will begin typing it soon. Chapters 24 and 25 are already typed up, I
just need to go over them for any errors or mistakes. So, hold tight. I promise
I will finish this story. I haven't put my blood, sweat and tears - and
possible a body part or two - into this, to not finish it. Just keep the
reviews coming! shameless begging And now onto the chapter.
Does anyone even read these author's notes?
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 23: Pranks, An Old Man’s Musings, and Saying Goodbye
April 4, 1997
I know something’s wrong with Draco. I noticed it when he entered the Great
Hall yesterday. I also knew that asking him would probably get me nowhere. I
had to try though. We’re close, yeah, but there are times when certain subjects
make us get defensive, and we’ll close up. That’s the reason I dropped it after
awhile. It’s better to let him cool down and get himself together. He knows
I’ll listen if he wants to talk about it.
So, to take his mind off of his problems, I gave him a blow job. I’m not THAT
experienced with it, but Draco seemed to enjoy it just fine. And if I know him
at all, then he wasn’t lying. Draco tells you how it is and doesn’t sugarcoat
anything. If I was truly horrible he would have told me, and then “volunteered”
himself as my teacher. That’s just how the prat is! I’m a bit kinder about it
until people start getting on my nerves, and then I snap at them. We’re alike
and different in some ways. Sometimes I’m kinder where he’s harsher. Then,
sometimes, it’s the opposite way around, and I’m harsher.
We keep each other sane, he told me once, though we’re both a bit unstable
ourselves. I had laughed because it was true mostly. We ARE unstable. I’M
unstable. I know I am. Don’t know how long I’ve been that way, though, but the
paper’s got it all wrong. I’m not delusional – pretty sure on that. I’m just a
torn up, confused teenager trying to make sense of things, trying to get by. I
have become more open-minded, more mature I think.
For example, I finally understand why Draco is the way he is, and why he was
the way he was when we first met – not saying he’s completely changed, because
he’s not. But I do understand something. If you’re raised in an environment
that holds muggles and muggle-borns as inferior, and taught to believe you can
have anything you want from an early age, than that’s what you’re going to
believe. Draco was raised like this, and, wanting his parents to be proud of
him, he would – of course – act like they taught him to. Another, different
example is Ron. He was raised with parents who were supporters of the Light,
and loving with their children. If living styles would have been switched…well,
I think they may have been different – Ron and Draco. But that’s just theory.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
April 7
Draco wasn’t what to expect that morning as he headed for the Great Hall,
especially not, after Harry’s statement that morning before he left.
“Have a good breakfast, Draco,” he had said with a slightly unnerving smile on
his face. The same one he had seen just before he humiliated Pansy in potions
that day. And now Draco was feeling both apprehensive and curious about what to
expect. He walked with Crabbe and Goyle silently on either side of him, as he
thought about what Harry could have planned.
Things had been pretty quiet since he’d come back, and though he hadn’t really
made a move towards doing his ‘mission’ he was feeling a bit better about
things. He didn’t feel quite as off-center as before, but he wasn’t completely
feeling better with the situation either. Pushing thought aside, Draco stopped
and looked at the Great Hall doors – that were closed. He furrowed his brow in
confusion. Normally, the doors would be opened by now, and allowing students
into the room to eat, but they weren’t. He could hear the disgruntled
murmurings of the students around him, and sighed. What Harry had done now, he
wondered.
“Stand aside please,” the voice of the Headmaster said after a few minutes, and
then the man himself was cutting through the students and heading for the
doors. Dumbledore stood there a moment looking at the door, before pulling his
wand from his pocket and flicking it at the doors, muttering something under
his breath. The doors sprung open, and Draco looked on in concealed amazement
as hundreds of bubbles began floating out of the Great Hall.
A first year girl Draco didn’t recognize walked up to the doors, and poked a
bubble. It popped, and then the most bizarre thing occurred. With the bursting
of the bubble, the loud whinnying of horses rang out through the Entrance Hall.
All was silent, before someone else popped another bubble. This time giggles
were heard, loud and tinkling. And then bubbles were being popped everywhere,
and all manners of sounds and phrases were being broadcasted.
Draco shook his head and wondered just what Harry was thinking with this little
prank. He glanced around through the bubbles and people to find that mess of
black hair, and saw him standing off to the side with his friends. Draco shook
his head again, amused beyond belief. Next to him he saw Crabbe reach out and
pop a bubble, but what came from this one was unexpected, though no less
amusing.
My name is Cho
I am a hoe, and I spread my legs for fun.
Just ask me to bend over, and I’ll take it from anyone!
The Entrance Hall erupted into gales of laughter, and Draco looked around. He
knew Chang had stayed for the break, and he looked for her, wanting to see her
reaction. She looked furious, embarrassed, and about ready to cry as people
pointed and laughed at her, some even spitting crude sexual comments. Draco
smirked to himself, and laughed along with everyone else. That little rhyme was
hilarious, and the embarrassment in caused Cho Chang was even better. He felt
even better than before. The crowd fell silent as another rhyme was spoken.
Gryffindors are great; full of passion,
Slytherins are sly; grand for shagging.
Ravenclaws are resourceful; full of unnecessary knowledge,
And Hufflepuffs are humble; full of friendly homage!
Draco scowled at that though inside he found it incredibly funny. He wondered
just who came up with that one, Harry or one of his friends.
Spank me!
Lick me!
Dumbledore’s barmy!
When Snape sneers…a first year pisses their pants!
Wet cat’s are testy…just look at McGonagall!
The phrases came and went, over lapping as each bubble spouted its words. Draco
was clutching his sides and laughing so hard that it hurt. He glanced at his
godfather, who was scowling as he stood beside Dumbledore. The Headmaster just
looked amused with it all. He looked over towards Harry who was laughing with
his friends. Draco definitely felt much better after this spectacle, and he had
to make sure to thank Harry for cheering him up.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
April 9
Harry had spent as much time as he could to train. Between spending time with
Ron, Hermione and Ginny, and then with Draco, he somehow found time to continue
his self-training. And the effects of his determination on himself were even
more interesting. He felt proud of himself for one thing, and he also felt a
bit lighter. Like somehow a bit of his depression had been lifted off his
shoulders. He wasn’t so sure if that was possible, but it was what it had felt
like.
As it was, Harry had succeeded in being able to cast a number of spells
wandlessly, all through practice, and trials and errors. He was infinitely
proud of himself for these accomplishments. He had also taken to writing down
the spells he had succeeded in casting and his progress with his training,
determined as he was to train himself for his fight against Voldemort. He was
so used to doing this on his own, that this didn’t bother him in the least.
Also, through practice, he’d found the some spells either couldn’t be done
wandlessly, or he just couldn’t figure out how to do them. For example,
Incarcerous he couldn’t figure out how to do. It frustrated him, and he that
he’d have to break down and ask about it sooner or later, and he also figured
Dumbledore was his best option. But for now he wanted to enjoy the feeling of
pride he had for doing so much on his own.
Right then, Harry was sitting on the floor of his training room, breathing
calmly. But he wasn’t calm. He had been trying to cast the Patronus Charm for
half an hour now without much success, and that frustrated him to no end. He
was comforted by the thought that it was possible, as he had succeeded in
producing wisps of white from his palm, but never the full stag. It irked him
that when he had first learned to do it in third year, he had been able to cast
it much more quickly, but could do so now.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself up, and stood tall, squaring his
shoulders. Closing his eyes, he thought of a happy memory, keeping a clear
picture of it in his mind. Taking another deep breath, he opened his eyes, only
seeing the room around him vaguely.
“Expecto Patronum!” he watched as a white mist-like substance rose from his
upturned palm and into the air a bit. It began taking shape, and Harry tried to
restrain the excitement ready to burst from him. When it finally formed a stag
and began prancing around, Harry let out a loud sound of happiness. He had done
it! After so many failed attempts he had done it. He had cast a >i>Patronus>/i>
wandlessly. Harry threw his head back and laughed, not caring that the stag
began to fade away – because he had done it! He felt exhilarated and alive like
never before. He had succeeded in casting a spell wandlessly that many people –
even others in his year – had trouble casting with a wand. He began dancing
around the room, singing ‘I did it! I did it!” as he did so, and glad no one
was around to witness it.
He finally calmed down, though his goofy smile still remained. Spreading his
arms out to his sides, Harry leant his head back and sighed, a long, drawn out
sigh of contentment. He looked back up and gazed around him. He wiped a hand
across his sweaty forehead, pushing his hair back, and sighed again, shorter
this time. Almost like a huff, really. He decided that maybe that was enough
for tonight. He was exhausted; he had been working on other spells before he
had decided to try and tackle the Patronus Charm. And now he was more tired
than ever before, and he had to make his way back to Gryffindor Tower.
Sitting down on the floor, Harry pulled out a spiral-bound notebook he had and
opened it to the last page he had written on. It was half used with previous
training notes already written down. Snatching up a pen, he quickly jotted down
his progress for that night, along with a note to look up more spells he could
try. That done, he put everything back into his bag, grabbed up his
invisibility cloak, and made his way from the room. Once he made sure the
entrance to the room was securely closed, he made his way back to the Tower. It
was early morning by the time he got to sleep.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Draco sighed heavily and pulled gently on his hair with one hand. Taking a deep
breath in through his mouth, and then letting it out through his nose, the
blond tried to relax and focus on the book in front of his once more. He was
sitting in the library and trying to finish up the last of work before the end
of break. He hadn’t done it during his time at the manor, though he had had the
materials with him to do so. There just hadn’t been anytime to do it with
everything else that had been going on.
So, now, he sat at a table by himself, brow furrowed, and a hand pulling at his
hair in frustration. He was having a hard time focusing, though, and that only
added to his problems. Since coming back from the manor, except for that first
day, he had been avoiding thinking too much about his ‘mission,’ which was hard
considering that whenever he looked at Severus he thought about it. He shook
his head and tried to focus on his charms works again, but couldn’t, and tossed
his quill down in disgust. Breathing evenly for a few moments, Draco finally
picked his quill back up and looked to the book determinedly.
They had been studying the different types of Sleeping Charms, and he was
supposed to be writing a report on them. Starting at the top of the page, Draco
began to read it over again and take the appropriate notes. As he wrote
something in comparison with a potion, an image of Severus lying on a floor
bleeding and shaking passed through his mind. Draco’s hand twitched
involuntarily, and the quill almost slipped from his grasp before he clutched
it tighter. He glared at his hand through narrowed eyes. This was just
ridiculous! Even thinking about bloody potions made him agitated. He clutched
the hand without the quill into a fist, nails digging into the flesh of his
palm. This just wasn’t on, Draco mused, half angrily and half tiredly. Life was
just making things difficult. Unfurling his hand, he rubbed at his temple with
his fingertips.
He could do this, he knew he could. He was a Malfoy, after all, and therefore
should be able to detach himself from the situation so he could focus on other
things, like his schoolwork. Only, Draco had never been put in this type of
situation before, and his father usually handled any major scrapes he got into
as the man had always insisted that he, Draco, was too incompetent to do so
himself. And that thought made the blond scowl fiercely. Then, he sighed and
began gathering his things together. It was obviously a lost cause to try and
finish. The paper was almost done anyway, and he could finish the last up
tomorrow. He ran a hand through his hair as he returned the books he had been
using to the shelves, and then shouldered his bag, leaving the library at a
leisurely pace.
He was headed back to his room, which wasn’t unusual since he had been avoiding
too much contact with either his godfather or any fellow Slytherins besides
Crabbe and Goyle since his return. The only other person he had much contact
with was Harry, and the Gryffindor had seemed preoccupied lately, as if he had
a lot on his mind. Draco had wondered what it could be, but hadn’t asked.
Between his own problems and wanting to give Harry the respect the other had
given him by not pressing further for answer, Draco had found himself very much
distracted at times.
Reaching his rooms he muttered the password and stepped inside. He decided to
go, and rest a little before dinner time, hopefully ridding himself of some of
the tension in the meantime.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The view from his office had always been a beautiful sight, no matter what the
season was, and as long as he’s occupied this room over the years, he’s never
tired of it. Staring out the window now and absently petting the rather
lackluster looking phoenix, Albus Dumbledore was thinking. That wasn’t an
unusual thing for him, really, and neither was the person his thoughts revolved
around. But the subject was one that was slightly strange for him to think
about so much, though lately he had been thinking about it frequently. He gave
Fawkes a last pat before he went and sat down in the chair at his desk.
Albus had done many things in his long years of living, many things he would
consider for the greater good, while others may not find his actions to get the
end result justifiable. He would agree with those people in some of those
cases, especially with the recent doubts he was having concerning Harry Potter,
and the decisions he had made regarding the boy.
It had all started with that prophecy Sybil Trelawney had made all those years
ago, in a pub one night. He had gone hoping to find a Divination’s professor,
and found more than he had bargained for. Initially, he hadn’t been too
impressed with the woman, but when she fell into a trance and began speaking,
he had changed his mind. Spoken in that hollow, hoarse tone; the prophecy that
would one day change so many lives was born.
It wasn’t until Voldemort had gone after the Potter’s that Halloween night that
Albus knew for sure, that Harry was the one the prophecy spoke of, and not
Neville Longbottom. And from then on, he had focused on making sure Harry was
safe. His first decision had been sending the boy to live with his aunt, and
Albus still couldn’t decide on whether it was really for the best or not. When
he saw Harry again for the first time since leaving him at Privet Drive, he was
shocked and saddened by what he had seen. It had been obvious the boy was a bit
small for his age, underfed and malnourished, but there hadn’t seemed to be
anything worse. As long as the boy was safe and alive, it couldn’t have been
too bad.
Then there were the brief flashes of things he and Severus had seen in Harry’s
mind. Things that could possibly hint towards abuse, but they never actually
saw evidence of it. And, to add to that, Harry seemed to have an almost
subconscious control to block someone from his mind. His childhood, for one,
even before he had begun to learn Occlumency was almost always inaccessible.
The brief glimpses had worried him, but as far as Albus could tell the abuse
didn’t go further than neglect, and while that was horrible enough, he believed
it was something that the boy could learn and grow from. Besides, he had
protection from Death Eaters and others who wished to do him harm at the
Dursley’s.
That had been one the many decisions he had made concerning Harry Potter, and,
while some may not have been entirely wise, they had been necessary in
protecting the boy. Albus had been sure that whatever happened, Harry could
handle it. Even, the old man mused, feeling a tight coil of guilt in his chest,
a magical block put on his magic. Glancing towards the window and looking at
the soft, blue sky, Albus wondered, not for the first time – especially lately
– if that decision had really been a wise idea.
He remembered James and Lily’s words before their demise. Even at one year old,
Harry had been displaying large and almost frequent bouts of magic. Something
that was not wholly uncommon, but not strictly rare either, especially for
powerful children who were going to grow into even more powerful adults. So,
after careful consideration, he had placed a less powerful, but still
efficient, magical block on the boy’s magic. It would suppress the magic enough
that Harry’s magic wouldn’t have been constantly out of control, without
hindering him or his magical growth any. But the incident that happened that
February morning had made him begin to think about his decision more closely.
Harry could have been seriously hurt that day. The risks of a magical block, no
matter how diminutive in power, were great and dangerous. Because of the
backlash and blockage, Harry could have easily slipped into a coma that day.
Unconsciousness was better by far, but there was still that thread of worry in
him that was concerned that before Harry’s seventeenth birthday, the boy would
slip into a coma. The block wasn’t set to dissolve until Harry turned
seventeen.
Albus also thought that Severus may have figured it out. The man was smart, and
Albus knew he read up on many things. Magical blocks, considered on the cusp
between Light and Dark magic’s were well-known, if not widely used. The
Ministry hadn’t labeled the use of them as Dark, per say, but as there have
been incidents of death due to a magical block they are somewhat illegal. That
was the reason he had used the lesser version of the blocks on Harry. There was
less of a chance of it being dangerous enough to cause death. But that didn’t
relieve the guilt and worry he felt.
With a weary sigh, eyes devoid of the usual twinkle, Albus Dumbledore sat back
and thought about Voldemort, the war, Harry Potter, and the decisions he has
made in his long years of living.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Harry had decided to wait until the last day of break to do what he had been
contemplating doing for the last week. In between everything else he was doing,
he decided that maybe it was time to try and settle a few things. He didn’t
feel as confident about it as he tried to convince himself, though.
The students had returned early evening just before dinner. Harry and his
friends had spent the time from dinner until everyone went to bed telling about
the pranks they pulled. But Harry had been too preoccupied with what he had to
do, to really get into retelling it all again. And now he was heading down to
the lake under his invisibility cloak, feeling a mixture of emotions churning
in his belly. He was almost there, and with each step his legs felt more like
lead; heavy and unresponsive. He felt his chest tightening and the
uncomfortably tense sensation made him slightly short of breath, and a bit
dizzy. But he continued to his destination, determined, even if a bit hesitant
to proceed with his plans. He had to though; he felt that it was time to do
this.
He reached the edge of the lake sooner than he would have liked, but only took
a deep breath as he pulled the cloak from around himself. He clutched it in a
loose grip in his left hand and stared out over the glittering water. He
breathed in sharply, sucking in a gulp of early spring night air. He glance at
his watch, and, with a smile twisting his lips, he saw that it was half an hour
until midnight. He looked back out over the lake, gazing at the moon’s
reflection in its surface.
“Sirius,” Harry breathed the name, keeping his eyes on the same spot. “I’m
sorry, Sirius, so sorry. If I hadn’t fallen so easily into Voldemort’s trap,
you’d still be here.” He continued to speak quietly, voice choked with sadness
and anger; anger towards Voldemort, the Death Eaters, and himself.
“I know if you were still here you’d probably tell me it wasn’t my fault, but
it was! Gryffindor bravery and courage are all well and good, but by letting my
emotions consume me I made a bad decision. And now you’re gone. No, not gone,
but d-dead, and I have to accept that,” he said thickly. He could feel his eyes
prickling with tears, and blinked rapidly. “Its not bad having emotions like
that and wanting to protect the people you care about. That’s what makes us
human. But it could have been more organized, or I could have trusted that
Dumbledore would something. But I didn’t, and I ended up leading my friends
into danger and getting you killed.”
He stopped talking and closed his eyes as pain lanced through his chest. This
was hard, but it was Harry’s first step to letting Sirius go and healing
himself. He had to do this for himself, he knew if he wanted to be able to
defeat Voldemort. It could be used as a weakness against him, and Harry knew
that couldn’t happen. Opening his eyes again, Harry sat on the ground crossed-
legged and sighed heavily.
“I haven’t been doing so good since losing you, but I’m coping in my own way,”
he continued, rubbing a hand absentmindedly over his right forearm. “Its time I
began to let you go,” he murmured. Harry remained silent for a long time, just
staring out over the lake at the moon’s reflection, or at nothing at all. The
lightest of winds blew around him like a caress, as he sat near the lake’s
edge.
He sighed, and rose to his feet after a lengthy silence. He hadn’t more to say
to Sirius anyway. Tilting his head to the sky, he gazed at the moon directly –
intensely – with sadness welling up in him, but on the edge of that sadness he
could feel something he couldn’t quite identify. “Goodbye Sirius,” he said
quietly, almost reverently, and swept his cloak around him, turning from the
lake and walking back towards the castle. His watch, if he had looked at it,
would have shown it was midnight exactly.
But, he didn’t. He just kept walking, feeling the tightness in his chest as if
it was contracting; loosening and tightening rhythmically, and seeming to hurt
more with each one. He clutched the cloak tightly, his fingers beginning to
hurt from the pressure. He swallowed back the urge to cry, shout, and scream or
anything else to relieve the immense pressure trying to consume him.
Saying goodbye had been the hardest thing.
***** Quidditch Attack, and A Chat With The Dark Lord *****

Author's notes: Check chapter one
===============================================================================
Chapter 24: Quidditch Attack, and A Chat With The Dark Lord
Classes resumed as usual after that, and life in Hogwarts went on. For Harry,
it was like a weight of some kind had been lifted off of him, but there didn’t
seem to be much difference since he’d ‘said’ goodbye to Sirius that day. He
wasn’t sure. It had felt good, in a way, to do that after holding onto his
godfather since that night in the Department of Mysteries. But, ultimately, he
still felt a bit empty. He supposed he would continue to feel that way for
awhile. With Sirius – like with his parents – he grieved for the time they
didn’t have. The time they should have had.
So, he went on as usual. It wasn’t hard to do so, after all. It was now two
weeks after the end of break, and the day of the Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch
match. It was the last match of the year, and the deciding factor for the Cup.
The day was a beautifully perfect one with a bright blue sky, little cloud
coverage and a high, shining sun. There was a light wind and the day was
comfortably warm. It was just perfect weather for flying.
Harry smiled to himself as he finished lacing up his shoes. He was really
looking forward to this match. Draco would be determined as ever, if not more
so, to win. The Slytherin wouldn’t go easy because of whatever was between
them, and neither was Harry going to. Harry was sure Draco would be pulling
every dirty trick he could, and for once, Harry was looking forward to it.
Turning around, he leaned against a locker and waited for the team to gather
together to give a pep talk as the team captain. Finally, when everyone was
dressed and present and gathered around, Harry began to speak.
“Alright, this is Slytherin we’re playing, and, while we’ve beaten them before,
that doesn’t mean we can get overconfident. Overconfidence could be our mistake
and lead to failure for us. Sloper, Kirke; watch Crabbe and Goyle carefully. We
all know how Slytherin uses their Beaters to try and knock around players
rather than Bludgers. Keep on them to intercept any Bludgers. And if necessary
play their way,” Harry said, smirking at their looks. “Sometimes to beat the
opposition you need to think like they do; play like they do.
Chasers, look out for yourselves and others. They like to double team the one
in possession of the Quaffle – it’s their tactic. Work together and double team
them back,” Harry said, looking at Ginny, Katie and Euan. They nodded, looking
determined and eager. Harry smiled at them, and then looked around at the team.
“We’re going out there today and playing our best. Slytherin will probably play
dirty, but it won’t get us down. We won’t let it! We’ll play dirty right back,
but on a smaller scale. Remember what we did from practice. We will do what we
need to do, no matter how hard it gets out there and we’ll win. Now let’s go
kick some Slytherin ass!”
A roaring cheer ran through the locker room as the team got themselves hyped
up. His captaincy was one thing he really loved. He watched as the team rose
and began filing out of the locker room. Harry slung his Firebolt over his
shoulder and began heading out with the rest. Ron walked towards him and
slapped him heartily on the back.
“You’re going to show Malfoy whose boss, aren’t you mate?” Ron grinned wildly
at him, eyes shining brightly. Harry grinned back.
“Of course! I don’t plan on losing,” Harry said confidently.
“That’s the spirit, Harry! Pound the ferret’s arse into the ground,” Ron
exclaimed. Harry choked on his own saliva at the innocent phrase from his
friend. He really didn’t need that mental image playing in his mind when he was
about to be on a broom for an indefinite amount of time – ferret part aside.
“Uh, yeah, Ron,” he replied awkwardly. They headed out onto the field and met
in the middle with Hooch and the Slytherin team. The crowd was roaring with
applause, screaming with excitement.
“Alright you lot, I want fairly clean game. I know this is the final match this
year, and I know how determined you all can get. Captains, shake hands,” she
commanded briskly. Harry and Draco stepped forward, clasped hands tightly – all
the while trying to break the others – while looking at each other with
narrowed, challenging eyes. Then, they let go and stepped back. “Mount your
brooms!” Once Hooch blew the whistle the players all zoomed into the air. Harry
flew up above the others, as did Draco, waiting for the balls to be released.
“Ready to lose, Potter? I plan on wiping the pitch with you,” Draco said,
smirking at him.
“Please, Malfoy,” Harry replied condescendingly. “Don’t get delusional on me
before the game’s even begun.”
“And the Snitch has been released…followed by the Quaffle and the Bludgers!
Slytherins Theodore Nott in possession,” Seamus announced. Harry glanced down
briefly to look at the playing going on, before looking back up at Draco again.
“I hope you’re not too sore when you lose, Malfoy. After all,” Harry said
casually, floating slowly towards the blond. He leaned on his broom handle,
eyes glancing around the field. “I’d hate to not get that blow job you promised
me.” With that, Harry zipped off towards the Slytherin end of the pitch,
laughing quietly to himself. This was already turning out to be a good game.
“…Gryffindor scores! That’s ten to zero in Gryffindors favor. The Quaffle is
tossed back out and Pucey takes possession. He speeds across the pitch and
dodges Abercrombie, who cut a path in front of him. He rolls out of the way of
a Bludger…and gets double-teamed by Weasley and Bell who take up position on
either side of him. They’re tailing him, but Bell gets the Quaffle out of
Pucey’s hand and Weasley takes possession – does she ever look good on a broom
–”
“Finnegan!” McGonagall’s stern voice is heard, tone warning.
“Sorry professor! Weasley swerves an on-coming Bludger sent by Goyle, dodges
Pritchard – ooh! – and gets sideswiped by Nott who steals the Quaffle – dirty
Slytherins; I know professor. Nott heads for the goal post, dodges Bell, cuts
past Abercrombie and tosses the Quaffle towards the ring – only to have Keeper
Weasley stop it at the last second!”
Harry clapped for his friend, even as he glanced around for the Snitch. He
noticed Draco not to far from him, searching also. He could just imagine the
blond scowling at the miss and he chuckled to himself.
The game continued on with each team scoring now and then, even as each team
was blocked by its opposing Keeper, too. Ron was holding his own in the game
just as well as Malcolm Baddock, Slytherin’s Keeper. The Gryffindor Chasers
were playing just as determinedly and rough as the Slytherin Chasers, and the
Gryffindor Beaters were working their hardest to intercept Bludgers and give as
good as Crabbe and Goyle dished it. It was a very intense game; hard and fast,
and the roughest Harry had ever seen his team play. It was amazing and
exhilarating. The team was taking his advice to heart and playing just as dirty
as the Slytherins. Each team had gotten themselves at least two fouls as well.
Of course a game like this couldn’t go without a few injuries on both sides.
Ginny had been hit in the arm by a Bludger that had sent her into a brief
downward fall. Luckily she hadn’t broken anything, though she was guaranteed to
have a nasty bruise. Ron had been hit pretty hard in the stomach by a Quaffle
he stopped that had caused him to fall off his broom. Fortunately, he didn’t
suffer more than the hit and fall, which proved not fatal and only sprained his
wrist which was secured for him to continue playing. Euan Abercrombie got
barreled into by two Slytherin Chasers, which sent him flying into a set of
stands. He dislocated his shoulder, but Pomfrey was able to fix it quickly, and
he was back on his broom and out on the field playing even more determinedly.
As for Slytherin; Theodore Nott’s broom was hit where he gripped it with his
hands, and the Bludger caused him to gain a few broken fingers. Graham
Pritchard flew into one of the ring’s posts after trying – and failing – to
dodge a double-team maneuver by Katie and Ginny. And Crabbe had been hit in the
shoulder by a Bludger that had caused the large boy to swerve into Goyle, who
had been near him. It really was an intense game.
And all the while Harry had been looking for the Snitch. There had been a few
close calls, but the golden ball had disappeared before either Seeker could
grab it. It was now almost an hour or so into the game, and the score was
eighty to seventy in Gryffindors favor. Harry was getting anxious, though.
Slytherin was never more than twenty points behind them, and he really needed
to catch the Snitch soon. He floated about the middle of the pitch, up above
the other players, looking around for the Snitch. He was tense, and clutching
the broom in an iron-like grip. Draco was several feet from him, also looking.
Harry licked his lips and glanced towards the Slytherin end of the pitch,
beyond the blond. He was just about to turn and look elsewhere when a golden
glint caught his eye, down near the ground.
Without hesitation, Harry zipped past Draco, and – in a somewhat downward tilt
– Harry began flying towards the Snitch. He vaguely heard Seamus announcing his
sighting of the ball and that Draco was catching up, but he blocked everything
out as he focused on his goal. He jerked the broom up when the Snitch became
active and changed course. Harry followed it up, through two people on brooms,
and then – swerving a Bludger, – he cut across another player. Out of the
corner of his eye he caught sight of Draco. Glancing over Harry noticed the
blond was basically neck and neck with him. He quickly refocused on the Snitch,
as he pushed himself – and his broom – to go faster.
The Snitch took another dive towards the ground and the two Seekers dove with
it. Harry leaned forward, inching on the golden ball, and then cursed loudly
when it changed course again, heading back up. He did a quick side roll and
turned his broom to following it. He caught up to Draco, who had gotten turned
around quicker and swiftly leveled with him.
As the Snitch ascended, Harry pushed himself determinedly to stay on it, to
catch it first. Draco bumped into him harshly, pushing him slightly off course.
Harry grunted, and then grinned, a somewhat feral grin, bumping Draco back. He
didn’t plan to lose to Draco, no matter what. A shoving match occurred as they
neared the Snitch finally. Harry had his hand stretched out, reaching for the
ball, pushing himself towards it when he felt the different wind pattern from
the beating of its wings. But just as his fist closed around it – Seamus was
yelling about his catch, causing the crowd to go crazy – a wave of absolute
cold washed over him. He gasped, and spun around sharply, looking frantically
around. He was sure he hadn’t imagined it, especially when he heard Draco swear
loudly behind him. And then he saw it, or more appropriately, he saw them. A
wave of Dementors came sweeping onto the pitch like a blanket of shadows, and
when Harry looked up he saw several more gliding around in the clear, blue sky.
“Fuck!” Harry spat and glanced at Draco who looked back, wide-eyed. Then he
began zipping across the field, heading for the Gryffindor section of seats. He
looked around as he did so, watching the Dementors. People were panicking, and
Harry watched as they moved into action, some trying to defend against the Dark
creatures (which were very few) and the rest fleeing for safety. But it seemed
like a futile effort.
Pulling up in front of the stands, he looked to Hermione. “Hermione, throw me
my wand!” he yelled to her. He looked around frantically as he waited, noticing
Dementors heading his way.
“Here, Harry!” Hermione’s frantic reply brought him back to attention. He
caught the wand levitated up to him – barely registering Hermione’s “Please be
careful!” – and bolted just as two Dementors came at him. They followed. Harry
pushed the speed on his broom, did an abrupt turnabout, and pointed his wand,
holding onto the happy thought he had used when he first learnt the spell.
“Expecto Patronum!” Harry grunted, and watched as the blinding white stag
appeared and charged the – now – three Dementors ahead of him. They shrieked
and flew away from the stag. He sensed the cold at his back, but instead of
turning around, Harry shot forward, and then into the air. He could hear the
screams, though they were completely muffled.
Damn, damn, damn! It ran like a mantra through his head. Harry looked behind
him and moaned in desperation. There were five Dementors on his tail, and
closing fast. He clenched his jaw in determination and darted his eyes around
the pitch. Getting an idea, Harry headed for the three rings ahead of him. He
bolted through one of them and cut a path towards the Forbidden Forest, panting
with the exertion. He could hear people screaming, and vaguely thought he may
have heard his name, but he ignored it and went on.
Reaching the forest, he ducked down into the tree tops and began weaving
through them. He glanced back again, briefly, to see that the Dementors were
still after him, if a bit more slowly. Dodging a tree, he cut a vertical line
up and out of the forest and into the sky a great height, before turning
sharply. He pointed his wand down at the tree tops and the approaching
creatures. Happy thought, Potter, happy thought! “Expecto Patronum!” he was
jerked back with the force, as his stag Patronus began galloping towards the
Dementors. They shrieked and scattered, backing away from the blinding light of
the Patronus. He sighed in relief as they flew away. He glanced towards the
pitch, but couldn’t see what was going on too well.
Harry pocketed his wand and clutched the broom handle with both hands. Closing
his eyes, Harry breathed out, willing away the lingering chill and headache. He
had caught images as he flew by the Dark creatures, images so brief and quick
that he had easily shaken them off. But now he remembered them, and it
unsettled him a bit. Breathing deeply and slowly, he gradually pulled in his
control, pushing everything else away for the time being. With one final sigh,
Harry opened his eyes, feeling a little more in control. And then he swore
harshly.
Several trolls were emerging from the forest and making their sluggish ways
towards the Quidditch pitch. This wasn’t good, and Harry had a pretty good idea
who was behind this attack. Flying back toward the pitch, he dived towards the
ground, jumping off his broom and running up towards Dumbledore.
“Trolls,” he gasped out, pointing towards the forest vaguely. “They’re coming
from the forest, and headed this way!”
Dumbledore’s eyes widened and he looked towards the forest, as did everyone
else around who had heard Harry. Sure enough, one could just see the small
legion of trolls making their way towards the pitch.
Harry felt something latch onto his arm, and turned around to see worried brown
eyes. “Harry, are you alright? We saw you head for the forest with those
Dementors after you,” Hermione asked, worriedly.
“Yeah, I’m fine, but we have other problems,” Harry replied quickly.
“How many trolls, Harry?” Dumbledore asked.
“About seven, maybe eight,” Harry replied. He was still panting, adrenaline
running through his body wildly. But he couldn’t stop, and he couldn’t sit back
and do nothing. He threw a leg over his Firebolt and lifted into the air,
floating several feet above the crowd.
“Harry, what are you doing?” Dumbledore demanded, looking at the young man like
he already knew. He probably did.
“I’m going to help! I’m not sitting around and doing nothing,” Harry replied
firmly, and before anyone could respond he flew up into the air. Next thing he
knew, most of the Gryffindor team were floating around him. “Wha–”
“We want to help, mate,” Ron said, looking pale, but determined. “What do you
want us to do?” Harry stared blankly at the lot of them for a moment, before
snapping out of it.
“Each of you can conjure things, right? If not, levitate those rocks over
there. Either way, we’re going to drop them over the trolls. That should
hopefully knock them out.” The group nodded to this and took off for the
trolls. Working together they managed to knock out all ten – Harry had counted
– trolls. Each one fell to the ground with resounding thuds, but some of the
students didn’t get away without injury. Some had gotten to close to the
trolls, and had been swiped at by them and almost trampled before they got out
of the way. With the trolls out of action, the group headed back to the pitch.
Harry felt pain spike in his scar as he flew, and he inhaled sharply, rubbing
his fingers over it. He hadn’t had any scar pain since back in February when
Voldemort had sent him that horrible ‘gift.’ The pain was sharp, leaving a
burning sensation afterwards that made Harry grimace. He lost the grip on his
broom with his one hand when another sharp pain shot through his scar. He tried
to clutch the broom with his thighs, but the pain made him feel weak, and he
slipped off his broom. He heard gasps and people cry out, but fortunately the
fall wasn’t too far.
“Harry,” what sounded like Dumbledore’s voice said, just as the man himself
leant down beside him. Harry was on his hand and knees, the other hand pressed
to his scar. “Harry.”
“Scar…” Harry choked out. Focus damn it! Shield your mind, Harry, come on!
Harry’s thought, taking deep breaths and focusing on that forest that guards
his mind. He had too many secrets that needed protecting, for Voldemort to find
out.
“What–” Dumbledore stopped, but Harry couldn’t look up to see why.
“Albus! Albus,” he heard being shouted vaguely through the pain in his head
that was pounding like a drum.
“What is it, Arthur?” Dumbledore said, and Harry was sure he could hear a hint
of anxiousness in the old man’s tone. He wanted to snort in amusement at that,
but he was still half concentrating on keeping his shields up.
“Oh Albus, it terrible…just got word,” Arthur babbled. “It’s Azkaban, it’s been
broken into! Apparently – oh it’s horrible – You-Know-Who, and his Death
Eaters…The prisoners have been freed!”
There were gasps and murmurs at this news, as those within the vicinity heard
the babbled words. Harry took a deep breath, feeling a bit more in control, and
stood shakily to his feet, brushing off Hermione and Ron’s worried looks with a
shake of his head. Another sharp pain in his scar made him gasp and clutch his
head, feeling a wetness he just knew was blood. “I hate you, you snake-faced
son of a bitch!” he muttered in a strangled voice, before darkness claimed him.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
He stood in the middle of a forest and he was pretty sure he was inside his own
mind. He looked around at the lush and vibrant foliage, at the trees and many
shadowed areas. It really was a beautiful place, but what was he doing there?
“Ah, I see you have improved on defending your mind, Potter,” the voice made
Harry’s head snap up, and he looked in the direction of where it came from.
There, standing by the pond in the middle of the clearing, was none other than
Lord Voldemort.
“What can I say, Tom? I didn’t much want you prowling about in my private
thoughts,” Harry said sarcastically. Voldemort’s eyes flashed at that, but he
immediately smoothed his expression into a smirk.
“Well, after your pathetic godfather, I guess you would want to protect
yourself better,” Voldemort said in a thoughtful tone, underscored with malice.
Harry tensed at the words and clutched his hands into fists at his sides. How
dare this disgusting monster talk about Sirius!
“Shut up, you good for nothing bastard! You have no right to talk about
Sirius,” Harry hissed, glaring into red eyes unflinchingly.
“Hit a sore spot, I see,” the Dark Lord commented with a mocking chuckle. “You
know Potter; I have been wondering how you enjoyed my little present. You know
the one I speak of. That lovely Mudblood’s heart; how was it?”
Harry remained silent, glaring poisonously at the monster before him. He
refused to consciously think about that day, to remember the red, bleeding
heart in the box.
“Ah well, it doesn’t matter, I suppose,” Voldemort said dismissively, waving a
hand carelessly. “You kill one Mudblood, and you kill them all. I’m sure you
were quite distraught, though.” Voldemort drawled in a bored tone, smirking
lazily.
Harry clenched his jaw and tried to calm himself. Don’t let him rile you up! He
snapped at himself. Show him you’re not as hot headed as he believes. Show him
you can react in other ways besides anger. Harry forced himself to smirk back
at the man – a hard, cold smirk.
“Poor, poor, Tom, still throwing tantrums over the fact that his father didn’t
want him,” Harry taunted, smiling maliciously when Voldemort went rigid. Hatred
burned in the red eyes, and Harry chuckled lowly, feeling powerful that he was
causing such a reaction in the supposedly most evil Dark Lord in hundreds of
years. “I mean, really,” Harry continued. “how pathetic are you? You’re
fighting for the rights of purebloods when you, yourself, are a half-blood –
and all because your dad didn’t want you because you are a wizard. And you’re
supposed to be feared? Yeah, right,” Harry snorted, shaking his head in mock-
pity.
“How dare you disrespect me, boy! How dare you mock me!” Voldemort yelled in
rage, glaring, eyes glowing with the promise of a red death. “That wretched
name died along with that accursed muggle. You will fear me, Potter, you mark
my words,” he hissed, the last word coming out a bit serpentine.
Harry arched his eyebrows at this. “Do you say that to everyone you try to
kill, or am I special?” he asked. The man glared harder, and Harry thought: if
looks could kill. Of course if they could, he’d probably be dead more times
than anyone else in the world.
“Gryffindor stupidity, I see, hasn’t been lost on you,” Voldemort sneered.
“And I see being a complete and total bastard hasn’t been lost on you. Good
job,” Harry quipped. He briefly wondered where this sarcastic behavior was
coming from. The recklessness of his behavior, really, wasn’t much of a
surprise. Note to self: think of a second sort of defense. I really prefer not
to have Voldy this far into my mine.
“You won’t be so cocky soon, Potter,” Voldemort drawled, smirking slyly. Harry
looked at the monster before him, hate burning through him like a wave. He
didn’t say anything. “Let me tell you something, Potter.” Voldemort said his
voice dropping to a lower pitch. He stalked closer to Harry, and Harry refused
to step back and give Voldemort the satisfaction of thinking he was afraid.
Voldemort raised a hand, and then caressed it – feather light – down his cheek.
Harry clenched his jaw, and struggled not to flinch, but he did a bit anyway.
His skin was crawling in disgust at the mockingly loving touch. Voldemort’s
smirk widened at this and Harry silently cursed himself.
“My followers that had been captured because of you and your worthless friends,
are now free,” Voldemort whispered, now leaning close to his ear. “And soon,
you’ll know why people fear me. Soon…you’ll suffer the same fate as your
pathetic parents and godfather.”
Harry felt unimaginable rage build up within him at these words, and he raised
his hands and shoved the Dark Lord back, hard. Voldemort stumbled back, but he
was chuckling cruelly. Harry clenched his fists, and – with all his might –
thought of pushing the man from his mind. He blacked out, but not before seeing
Voldemort disappear as if being sucked away through some weird vortex of black
swirling energy.
***** An Overdue Chat, A Day Full of Surprises and Talks with Dumbledore *****

Author's notes: Check first chapter
===============================================================================
AN: Hey Everyone! I know it's been a while since I've updated, but I have a
reason for the delay. Check my Bio for the info. Here's the deal. From now on,
it would be wise to look in my profile, because I have begun adding update
notes to it, as well as progress notes on the stories I am working on. I may
add things I plan to work on in the future, too, but I'm not sure yet.
Everything has been a little hectic for me lately, but I'm trying to do my best
and finish this story. There is going to be a sequel and come hell or high
water, I plan to finish it, as well as RC. It may take me some time, but bear
with me guys. The reviews have really helped to boost my confidence a bit, so
I'm grateful for all you faithful readers.
And without further ado!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Chapter 25: An Overdue Chat, A Day Full of Surprises and Talks with Dumbledore
Draco wondered if fate was fucking with them. The day had started out so
wonderfully. He awoke from a sound sleep in a very good mood, ready for the
game that day. He had felt so happy and full of energy, ready to have one hell
of a match since he had known Harry wouldn’t hold back just because they were
seeing each. The game would prove to be interesting. And it had been. Every
time the Snitch was in sight they would both put their all into being the first
to get it. The game had gone well up until the last chase for the Snitch. Harry
had caught it, yes, and that had pissed Draco off a bit, but it was all soon
forgotten.
And then the Dementors came.
Like birds of prey, they came sweeping onto the pitch en masse. Draco had known
from the look Harry gave him that the Gryffindor was going to try and help. His
first thought was, Stupid Potter! but his second was, irrationally, I wish I
could help. He didn’t know where it had come from, but he also knew he couldn’t
help, because that would put him under scrutiny with his housemates, who could
easily report it back to his mother. The woman was just as dangerous as his
father, and didn’t want to deal with her wrath.
So, he had watched as Harry flew around the sky performing crazy stunts as he
dodged the Dementors and set the occasional Patronus to ward off the creatures.
He watched as Harry determinedly got rid of the Dementors chasing him, pulling
moves on his broom that he’d never done during Quidditch. Draco had been sure
Harry hadn’t even realized it he had watched as Harry and some of the
Gryffindor team did away with the trolls that had been keen on wreaking havoc,
and then he had watched as Harry fell those few feet from his broom, clutching
his head. Draco had stood with the other Slytherins, back away from the drama,
but still within hearing range, watching the commotion. The brief glimpses he
had caught of Harry had shown him looking pale with blood trickling down his
forehead. It had worried him, but the worry had been quickly overridden with
shock and fear and a myriad of other emotions with the words that had come form
Arthur Weasley’s mouth.
The prisoners of Azkaban had been freed. His father had been freed. Draco had
heard it clearly.
The pitch had been cleared soon after that. Harry had been unconscious and the
nurse had been levitating him towards the castle. The match had been won by
Gryffindor, as they had found the Snitch in his pocket when someone – Draco
didn’t know or care who – stated they’d seen Harry catch it. And, for once,
Draco didn’t care about the match. Harry could have died – smashed by a troll,
had his soul sucked out by a Dementor, or fallen off his broom. Was that less
important compared to who had won? No, it wasn’t.
Draco had gone back to the common room with his housemates, who were either
sulking because they lost yet another match to Gryffindor, or gloating because
the prisoner had been freed and their parents might have been among them. Draco
had joined the gloating, boasting about how his father and the Dark Lord would
get Potter. He had felt sick with himself as he donned the mask and paraded
around, declaring all sorts of things about his father and the Dark Lord. He
also felt disgusted with his housemates. Did they even know what their parents
really did in the name Lord Voldemort? What they, themselves, would be expected
to do? They had no clue, and yet, they sat there and declared their eagerness
in that subtle way about joining the Death Eaters. It was all sick and Draco
couldn’t believe he’d never realized what he, himself, had been on the path to
becoming. But not now, Draco wasn’t going to becoming some mindless follower
bowing to a man who would order him to rape and kill in his name.
Stating the need to write to his mother – luckily others were writing home also
– Draco was only too happy to leave the idiots that were the majority of his
housemates. He was aware that some were quieter about the whole thing, and as
he had watched them, he took in all the little details he could. Some of the
ones who were quieter were friends of his, some weren’t, but Draco would store
all that away for later thought. He was pretty sure not all of his housemates
wanted to become Death Eaters, but being in Slytherin they all learned at young
ages to protect themselves always, even from ‘friends.’ it was a safety
measure.
After leaving the common room, Draco walked through the dungeons to get to his
godfather’s quarters. He had to talk to the man. It time he did so and stopped
putting it off. Over the last two weeks Draco had watched Severus carefully,
not exactly spying, but trying to learn some things. He hadn’t really
discovered anything circumstantial to help him though. There had been small
things, things that could have meant nothing, or they could have meant
something. For one, Severus very rarely, if ever, mentioned the Dark Lord
around Draco. Draco had thought on all their conversations and couldn’t
remember the man actually talking about the Dark Lord, and he, himself, never
brought it up in front of the man.
With his father being a very avid supporter, as well as his mother, Draco
thought – with Severus being a follower as well, though it was never really
discussed – that the man would bring it up at least once or twice, especially
since Lucius had been adamant about Draco joining the Death Eaters. Draco still
had to figure a way out of that.
Reaching the door, Draco knocked quickly after taking a glance around. When no
answer came after almost a minute, Draco was about to turn and leave when the
door opened abruptly. Severus blinked, looking uncharacteristically startled
for a moment, before ushering him in. Draco flopped ungracefully into one of
the chairs by the lit fireplace and rubbed a hand over his face. Then, he
growled, stood, and began to pace.
Severus stared at his godson for a long moment, carefully weighing what the boy
could be there for, before walking towards a cabinet in the corner. He opened
it and retrieved two shot glasses, as well as a bottle of brandy. He had needed
something strong himself and he had a feeling Draco needed something stronger
than Butterbeer too. Bottle and glasses in hand, Severus took the other
armchair before the fireplace and set the items on the table. “Sit,” he
commanded to the still pacing blond. Draco looked at him a moment, gave an
explosive sigh, and sat. Severus poured the alcohol into each glass and took up
his own, tipping his head at the other and giving Draco a pointed look.
Draco took up the glass without hesitation and knocked it back. It burned all
the way down and warmed him inside. It helped take the edge off the panic he
had begun to feel.
“Now, why don’t you calmly tell me what is wrong?” Severus asked, quirking an
eyebrow at him.
Draco took a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts. They were so
scattered, he felt like they were unsolvable puzzle pieces. Harry, his father,
trolls, Dementors, his mother, Death Eaters, the Dark Lord, Severus,
initiation, mission; they were just all over the place. He took another deep
breath and rolled the empty glass between his palms.
“I need you to swear a wizard’s oath, not to tell anyone without my expressed
permission what I’m about to tell you,” Draco said lowly, grey eyes fixed
steadily of black.
Severus’s eyebrows shot up at the request, and he stared intently at his
godson. “Draco, when have I ever betrayed your confidence in me? A wizard’s
oath? Do you think me one of those gossip mongers, the likes of Rita Skeeter?”
Severus was not overly offended by the request, really. He realized that
whatever Draco had to say was obviously worthy of an oath, and it made him
curious.
Draco shook his head and flexed his fingers around the glass. “It's not that I
don’t trust you, Severus, it’s just that…I’m looking after myself. Trust me on
this Severus.”
Severus looked at Draco for a long moment, silent and unmoving. He had a vague
idea what this conversation concerned and thought maybe he would find the
answers he’d been looking for himself. Nodding his head, Severus agreed to the
wizard's oath. Once they had done that and gotten through the sealing of the
oath, he looked to Draco expectantly, waiting for the boy to speak.
Draco breathed out through his nose slowly, put the glass on the table, and
looked back at his godfather. “I’m extremely unsettled that my father is out of
Azkaban. I hate the man, you know that much. After everything that he did to me
when all I wanted to do was make him proud, I can’t help but to hate him. And
now he’s out of prison! This is bad, very bad. If Lucius is out, then I’m sure
to get the Dark Mark this summer,” Draco paused and looked at Severus steadily.
Severus looked back.
“You do not wish to join the Dark Lord?” Severus asked neutrally, not giving
anything of his thoughts away.
Draco looked at him carefully, before deciding to continue. “No, I don’t,”
Draco said firmly. “After fourth year, when the Dark Lord returned, my father
was different. Not obviously so, but there was a definite change.” He took
another deep breath, and then proceeded to tell Severus about his summer that
year. The pensieve incidents, the beatings that had progressed into occasional
Crucuio’s when Lucius was especially angry, his thoughts on what he viewed in
the pensieve and so forth. He let it all spill out, feeling a weight lifted off
him. He also told Severus about his desire not to become a Death Eater.
Severus listened as Draco described what he saw and felt sick that someone so
young had to witness such atrocities. He vaguely thought that Potter, too, had
to witness such things, but he brushed it away. He couldn’t believe Lucius! And
then the man used Crucio on his own son. Severus felt outraged at the man’s
behavior.
“I’m sure that my mother and father will force me if I don’t agree to join
willingly,” Draco said, now pacing again. “But now I’m positive it will be this
summer that they will want me to join.”
Severus felt something in him clench at these words. “How do you figure that,
Draco?”
Draco looked at Severus intensely for a moment, then; he said quietly, “I was
given a mission during the break. I was to spy on you and discover where your
loyalties lie,” Draco said quietly, not looking away from black eyes.
Severus was shocked, but overly so. He had thought Draco was off a bit when he
had come back, but this wasn’t in any of his theories of what could have
happened to the boy.
Draco was silent, just waiting for Severus to speak. He stood, tense and
unbalanced, waiting and watching. It felt like ages before Severus finally said
something. “Why would you trust me, if you knew I was in the Dark Lord’s
service?” the man asked with one eyebrow quirked.
“Because from what I’ve been able to find out, it doesn’t seem like you’re on
his side. It's little, inconsequential things, but I’m pretty sure you’re not,”
Draco said firmly, challengingly, which was only half the truth. He needed
Severus to not be on his side. Severus stared at him expressionlessly for long
moments, but Draco stood his ground, not squirming under the scrutiny.
Severus was sure Draco was serious and being truthful, and this gave him hope.
Hope for Draco not to go down the same path he, himself, had. He could use
Legilimency, but he knew was quite adequate at blocking it. But Severus
believed Draco and that made relief wash through him to know that Draco was
against being a Death Eater. Severus would do everything in his power to make
sure it didn’t happen.
“Draco,” Severus said finally, looking at the too tense teen. Draco looked back
and Severus could see the barest hint of anxiety in his eyes. “Come, sit down.”
Severus watched as Draco hesitated for a moment, before reclaiming hi seat. He
poured them both another shot of brandy and pushed Draco’s glass toward the
boy. Draco picked it up, and Severus saw his hand shaking a bit. Draco quickly
clutched the glass in both hands, and downed the alcohol, sitting the glass
back on the table. He put his hands together and stuck them between his knees.
Severus said nothing of it.
“I will help you, Draco. I need you to trust me, though, this is very
important. You will meet me after dinner in the Entrance Hall once all the
other students have departed. Make sure of this. Do you understand?” Severus
asked firmly.
Draco nodded, relieved in some ways and even more anxious in others. “I do
trust you, Severus. This wasn’t easy for me, you know. It still isn’t,” he said
softly. An image of his father passed through his mind, and he felt himself
cringing. He could just imagine the torture Lucius would put him through when
he found Draco’s loyalty wasn’t to the Dark Lord. The thought made him shiver.
“I know it’s not easy,” Severus said, because he did know that choosing between
what you were taught to do and believe and choosing something different was a
hard one. He looked at Draco and saw the boy cringe slightly and had a good
idea what he was thinking about. “But I will help you any way I can.”
Draco nodded, but didn’t say anything. He stared at nothing and was silent for
a long time. He was thinking about all the things that had happened in his life
since his father was arrested. He had become friends with his rival/enemy and
found they had a common link, discovered they were more alike then they had
considered and found out they were attracted to each other. Draco learned a lot
about Harry, as well as learning some things from Harry. But then, there were
the not-so-nice things this year. His mother presenting him with a mission
passed down from the Dark Lord, himself, which led to him having to spy on his
godfather. And now, his father was free; out of Azkaban and undoubtedly back at
his master’s side. It was only too obvious to Draco that the Dementors and
trolls at the game had been a distraction.
He sighed and stood up from his seat. “I’m going to head to my room. I’ll see
you after dinner, Severus,” Draco said tiredly.
The Potions Master nodded, looking at his godson worriedly. Draco looked
drained; pale and drawn with a distant look in his eyes. “Alright, Draco, get
some rest while also.” his tone was one that brooked no argument. Draco nodded
and quickly left the room. He wanted to see how Harry was doing, but knew it
would be better if he tried to sneak up to the hospital wing at night. He
decided to follow Severus’s orders and get some rest. He was exhausted,
physically and emotionally. The adrenaline he had been running on from the game
and the excitement had long since faded, leaving him beyond tired. Besides
that, he wanted to not think for awhile.
Climbing into bed once he was back in his rooms, Draco shut his eyes, shut out
the world, and began drifting to sleep almost immediately.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Harry shot awake with a strangled gasp, hand flying automatically to his scar,
but feeling only the coarse material of bandages. He was panting, and
struggling to gather his wits, but he was succeeding, if slowly.
“Harry!” two familiar voices exclaimed, much too loudly. He turned to his
right, cringing at the pain that shot through his head at the noise. He saw Ron
and Hermione standing there and looking at him worriedly.
“Not so loud,” he complained hoarsely, rubbing at his right temple with his
finger tips.
“Sorry mate,” Ron said sheepishly, voice much lower.
“Harry, are you alright?” Hermione asked him anxiously, her brown eyes wide and
looking a bit shiny.
“Yes, I’m just bloody fantastic considering I had to out-fly Dementors today
and knock out several trolls. Oh! And not to forget that I have the bloody
fucking headache to end all headaches,” Harry replied sarcastically, voice
holding unintentional harshness and spite. He was in a bad mood, and the
headache was doing nothing to help it. And his throat hurt too, damn it! He saw
the look Hermione gave him and sighed. “I’m fine, but a glass of water would be
nice,” he hinted, his voice raspy sounding. “How long have I been out?” he
asked, taking the glass from Hermione with a weak, but grateful smile.
“Only about half an hour, maybe a bit more,” Hermione answered. Harry opened
his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a new voice.
“Ah, I see you’re awake, Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said, bustling over and
waving her wand over him, muttering spells as she did so. “Any pain?”
“I have a headache,” Harry said. “And I feel a bit cold.”
Pomfrey nodded her head. “That would be the after effects of the Dementors, of
course, but you already know that. I’ll give you a potion for the headache, and
a bit of chocolate. Maybe a warming spell, also,” she said, seeming to be
talking mostly to herself at that point.
“Where’s Dumbledore, I need to talk to him?” Harry asked, just as the nurse was
turning to leave.
“The Headmaster is currently away, but I will inform him when he returns of
your need to talk to him. You are to rest, Mr. Potter,” she said firmly, before
walking away.
Harry sighed softly, and then looked at his friends, smiling wryly at the two.
“Voldemort didn’t disappoint. It may be earlier than usual, but this just
smacks of his doing.”
“Yes, and coupled with the breakout of prisoner at Azkaban, it was probably a
distracting of some kind,” Hermione said. Pomfrey came back and shoved a vial
at Harry. He drank down the foul tasting concoction with a grimace of
distasted, and then began nibbling on the chocolate he was given.
“You’ve got five minutes, and then you have to go. I want my patient to rest,”
the nurse said, giving all three a look, looking more pointedly at Harry as she
stressed it.
“How long do I have to stay here?” Harry asked sourly.
“You will spend the rest of the night here, Mr. Potter, and I don’t want any
fuss about it,” she said sternly. Her face softened a bit. “Your scar was
bleeding quite profusely. It was cracked open somewhat, also,” she said. Harry
unconsciously rubbed at his head, feeling the bandage again. “I want you stay
just in case it starts bleeding again. If it hasn’t bled again by tomorrow
morning then I will release you.” Harry sighed, but nodded. Pomfrey reminded
then of their five minutes, before bustling away. Harry turned back to his
friends.
“Was anyone hurt?” he asked.
Ron shook his head. “A lot of people were really shaken, but no one was hurt,”
Ron replied. Then his eyes lit up. “We won the game, though! The Quidditch cup
is ours.”
Harry looked blankly at the redhead. He hadn’t even thought about the game as
he had too many other thoughts going on in his mind.
“Ron! We were just attacked by Dementors and trolls, and all you can think
about is a stupid game?” Hermione asked angrily, looking at her boyfriend in
disgust.
“But, Hermione, we beat Slytherin even with all that happened,” Ron argued.
“I can’t believe you, Ronald!” Hermione snapped.
“Ron, that’s nice and all, but people could have been hurt. I could have been
hurt, or killed even. Excuse me if I’m not as excited as you are,” Harry said
dryly. Ron flushed, and stared at his feet, looking shamefaced.
“I’m sorry, Harry, I just…I was happy, was all,” Ron mumbled, ears burning red.
There was a moment of awkward silence.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Harry,” Hermione said. “Your scar is…is it okay?” she
asked hesitantly.
Harry’s brow furrowed at this, and he once again felt his head over where his
scar was. Besides some tenderness, it seemed fine and he told the two so. He
told them about his ‘meeting’ with Voldemort, too. Hermione looked incredulous
and Ron looked pale, a bit worried and slightly awed.
“Voldemort was in your head and the two of you basically taunted each other,”
Hermione said slowly, as if someone just said pink bunnies were planning to
take over the known world.
“Yeah, basically, until he said some stuff about my parent and Sirius, and then
I pushed him from my mind,” Harry shrugged carelessly.
“Awesome,” Ron breathed. Hermione shook her head, a wry smile twisting her
lips.
“Only you, Harry, would taunt a person who is out to kill you,” she said with a
sigh. Harry smirked at her, and gave another smooth roll of the shoulders,
shrugging indifferently at her comment.
Pomfrey came back over then and began ushering the two out. She then told Harry
to rest and that if he argued she would give him a sleeping draught. Harry was
quick to lie down and keep his moth shut, though he didn’t go to sleep. He had
too much on his mind to sleep. He was glad no one had been hurt, but his
thoughts were all over. The breakout was shocking, and Harry was wondering how
Draco was taking it, but there was also the thought of what Voldemort’s next
move was, that was also plaguing him. This could only lead to something bigger
and more dangerous. He wanted to be ready for it, whatever it was.
He turned on his side and pulled the think sheet up to his shoulder. He
wondered where Dumbledore was. What had happened with the trolls that lay
unconscious not far from the pitch? What about the Dementors? He didn’t know
and it frustrated him that he didn’t. He hoped Dumbledore answered his
questions when he talked to the man. Not being told things always made a bit of
bitterness burn in Harry’s body, especially after last year. Not knowing things
could lead to disaster.
And there’s my inner cynic, Harry thought wryly, unconsciously rubbing his arm.
He couldn’t let himself get too down about it, as there was nothing he could
currently do. Besides, he was tired, just a little bit. He snuggled down into
the bed and closed his eyes. Sleep came soon after.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Dumbledore absent dusted himself off after stepping from the fireplace in his
office. He slowly made his way over to the perch that held Fawkes and gently
petted the beautiful looking phoenix, which trilled softly. He smiled a little
at the bird, before taking his seat. He weary blue eyes gazed ahead unseeingly.
He had just returned from the Ministry of Magic after meeting with Fudge. The
attack at the castle hadn’t been the only one to happen that day. About ten
Dementors attacked a small magical community in Sutherland at about the same
time as the attack at Hogwarts. Along with the Dementors a small group of Death
Eaters had accompanied them. Apparently, the Ministry’s Aurors had been
preoccupied with that attack and by the time they got help to Azkaban it had
been too late. The prisoners and any accomplices to the breakout had been long
gone. And the bad news just kept building.
While no one at Hogwarts had been hurt in the attack, the same couldn’t be said
for Sutherland. There was still speculation on exactly what went on at Azkaban,
but Sutherland had a total of five casualties, low considering the
circumstances. Two had been given the Kiss by Dementors and three had died at
the hands of Death Eaters. There had been many injuries, also, before the Death
Eaters disappeared and the Dementors were swept away, not long before the
Ministry arrived with extra help.
Albus had gathered all the information about what had happened that he could,
offered advice to Fudge – as usual – and left the Ministry to return to the
castle. He still had many things to do, and checking in on Harry was at the top
of the list. He wanted to make sure the boy was okay. Last he’d seen Harry;
he’d been lying unconscious in the hospital wing and bleeding from the scar
that adorned his head.
He sighed and rubbed wearily at his head. He hadn’t expected Voldemort to take
his Death Eaters being incarcerated lightly, but this had been – obviously –
unexpected. And with Severus still working his way back into Voldemort’s trust,
it would still be hard getting information unless they got another spy in there
– which he was working on. Rising from his chair, he extracted his pocket watch
to check the time. It was only a few minutes into dinner. He decided to go and
reassure the students and staff first, and then he would head to the hospital
wing to see Harry. He would also have to schedule an Order meeting to discuss
this new development.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
After talking to the students and eating a bit of dinner, Dumbledore made his
way to the hospital wing before dinner was even over. He would have to make
this quick, as Severus had expressed his need to talk to him about something of
great importance. He was pretty sure he knew what it was about, and other
pieces of a puzzle he’d been trying to solve were gradually falling into place.
There were still missing pieces, but he was sure he would find them out soon.
He walked into the hospital wing and smiled at Pomfrey as he stopped at her
office.
“Poppy,” he greeted warmly. “How is Mr. Potter doing? And the other students
who had been brought in?”
“The few others just needed bits of chocolate, some headache potions and
warming spells. They were released right after, as soon as they were able to
leave. Mr. Potter has had his head bandaged from where the scar had bled, and
besides a headache I believe he’ll be fine. I’m keeping him overnight for
observation, however, as I’m not sure what will happen since it is a curse
scar,” Poppy replied. Dumbledore nodded. “He’s just finishing with dinner.
Also, he wanted to talk to you.”
“Thank you, Poppy,” Dumbledore said, leaving her office and making his way
towards where Harry lay. The boy was sitting up with a tray on his lap and a
magazine of some kind to the side of him. As he got closer, Dumbledore noticed
it was a Quidditch magazine. When Harry looked up, Dumbledore smiled. “How’re
you, my boy?”
“Good,” Harry said quietly. “I’ve still got a bit of a headache, but it’s not
as bad as earlier. I wanted to talk to you, though.”
Dumbledore summoned a chair and sat down in it. He nodded to what Harry said.
“Madam Pomfrey said as much. What did you have to talk about, Harry?”
“Voldemort came to me,” Harry began without preamble. “In my head, I mean. He
talked about how his followers were free and did a bit of gloating. Did
anything else happen while I was unconscious?”
“The Dementors probably lowered your mental shields, which gave Voldemort room
to enter your mind. Were you able to push him out?” Harry nodded. Dumbledore
thought carefully about what he wanted to say. “There was another attack
besides the one here at Hogwarts.”
Harry’s eyes widened and he looked at Dumbledore intensely. “Where, and was
anyone hurt? What happened?” he asked quickly.
“Calm down, Harry. The attack was in a small magical community in Sutherland.
Apparently they were attacked by Dementors and a few Death Eaters as well,”
Dumbledore said.
“Another distraction,” Harry muttered. Dumbledore nodded. “And was anyone
hurt?” Harry asked again, his tone asking for the truth. Dumbledore looked at
him for a long moment silently.
“Injury and death are an inevitably of war, Harry,” the old man said quietly.
“There were some casualties – five to be exact.”
Harry closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. He had known there
would be deaths and such, but it was still hard to hear about it – personal, or
not. He opened his eyes and looked into blue ones. “Thank you for being honest
with me, sir. I really appreciate it,” he said quietly. “And…I’m sorry for how
I’ve been behaving towards you this year.”
“Say no more, Harry, say any more. I understand that in times of tragedy and
grief we sometimes tend to lash out at others. I must admit, though, that I was
a bit put-off by it at time, but I understand. You were lashing out at those
easiest to blame,” Dumbledore said reasonably, a twinkle coming to his eyes.
Harry flushed and shifted a bit at that and Dumbledore chuckled lightly. “You
are not the first person to take out their grief on those around them, and you
won’t be last.”
Harry sighed and nodded, feeling a bit of weight lifted off of him. Nothing
like life-threatening situations to make a person take their head out of their
arse, Harry thought wryly.
“I’m going to leave you to rest now. You’ll be out of here in the morning,
provided nothing happens. I must go and speak with Professor Snape.”
“What does Snape want?” Harry blurted before he could stop himself.
Dumbledore gave him a look. “That’s Professor Snape, Harry, and I believe he
wants to talk to me about Draco Malfoy,” he said casually. Harry tossed him a
sharp look.
“Well, Malfoy is one of his Slytherins and he’s a teacher’s pet. He’s probably
just seeking attention or something, or maybe it’s something about his father.
I’m sure Lucius was one of the escapees,” Harry said bitterly. Dumbledore’s
eyes twinkled and Harry felt a bit uncomfortable by the look the man had in his
eyes.
“Now, Harry, I’m sure Professor Snape’s godson holds more importance than that
to him,” Dumbledore replied with an amused smiled. Harry’s eyes very nearly
popped out of his head at this, his eyes were so wide. His mouth worked
uselessly for a few moments. “Didn’t you know? Ah, my mistake. It’s not well
known and only those on friendly terms with Mr. Malfoy would probably know.”
“Er, yeah,” Harry said awkwardly. “Who cares that Malfoy is Snape’s godson
anyway?”
“It’s just an old man babbling nonsense, Harry. Well then, I’ll leave you to
rest now. Have a good night’s sleep,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as he
rose from his seat.
“You too, sir,” Harry replied faintly. Dumbledore just smiled and left the
hospital wing, leaving Harry with the feeling that the man knew more than he
was letting on. And what was wrong with Draco anyway? Snape was Draco’s
godfather? Harry flopped back on the bed and sighed. This day was just full of
surprises.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Draco breathed out slowly as he followed next to Severus. Dinner had just ended
and he had waited around for Severus’s cue. The man had instructed him to
follow him with nothing but a look, and Draco did. He could feel his heart
beating a violent rhythm against his chest as they made their way to wherever
they were going. He was pretty sure they were going to Dumbledore’s office,
wherever that was. He had seen Severus lean over to speak to the man during
dinner. He felt like a complete wreck inside and he was sure he was about to
panic. He had never been in Dumbledore’s presence before – at least, not I such
close proximity anyway. He had heard so many things about the man since he was
a little boy. He had been mentioned almost as much as Harry Potter.
Finally reaching their destination apparently, they stopped in front of a
solemn looking gargoyle statue. Looking at it, Draco watched as Severus
approached it and spoke something. Then, he watched as the gargoyle leapt
aside, revealing a spiral staircase. He stood there and looked at it, getting
the impression that once he stepped forward onto those stairs, that there was
no turning back. Not only physically – as Severus wouldn’t let him back out,
and Draco’s pride was too busy hiding somewhere to keep him from doing it – but
in all aspects. Once he stepped onto those stairs, his life would change, even
more so than now. Was he really ready for this? Could he do this, knowing that
it would change so many things – if not everything – in his life?
Draco glanced at Severus, who stood before him, watching him patiently with
calm, solemn eyes. Draco swallowed and looked back at the staircase. He thought
about all that had happened that year, so far, and took a deep breath, steeling
himself. If he could befriend his once rival and get into a relationship with
him, then he could do this. This meeting – for he was sure of that much – would
be a turning point in what happened in the future for him. With a firm nod to
Severus, Draco walked forward and stepped onto the staircase, making another
factoring step in his life somehow. He could feel it as if it was a physical
change.
Severus stepped on behind him and they rode the spiral stairs up together in
silence. When they reached the top, stepped off, and stood before a big oak
door, Draco felt Severus touch his shoulder. He felt an added bit of comfort by
that simple gesture that just finalized everything in his mind in some way.
Severus would be there for him, no matter what. Squaring his shoulders, lifting
his chin and nodding, Draco watched as Severus knocked on the door, and walked
in even before an invitation was uttered. He followed.
He looked around at all the contraptions that he encountered, brow furrowed at
most of them. He gazed around him, taking in all he could see. He stopped
before he bumped into his godfather’s back, as the man stopped walking himself.
Draco pulled his focus back to the matter at hand and looked ahead. The room
was devoid of the Headmaster, but Draco caught a glimpse of something even more
interesting. He stared at the beautiful red phoenix that sat upon a perch,
ruffling its feathers and gazing absently at them. Draco had never seen a
phoenix before, and was awed by the creature. He stepped closer to get a better
look. The phoenix turned to focus on him completely, staring at him with its
black eyes, before it trilled out a soft note.
“Fawkes is a magnificent bird, is he not, Mr. Malfoy?” a voice said jovially.
Draco whirled around to see Dumbledore dusting himself off and standing before
a fireplace. “Severus. It’s good to see you both. I’ve just come just checking
in on Mr. Potter, who appears to be doing quite well after today’s excitement.
Sherbet lemon?” the man said all this in that light tone, walking to his desk
and sitting down. He smiled at Draco’s lifted brow as the blond sat down.
“No thank you, Headmaster,” Severus said dryly, obviously very much use to
this.
“Uh, no thank you, sir,” Draco replied, a bit hesitantly. He was glad to hear
that Harry was doing okay, though. That gave him a bit of relief.
“Ah, more for me then,” Dumbledore said, popping a yellow candy into his mouth,
eyes twinkling. Draco wondered if all those claims of the man being mad were
true. “Now, Severus, you stated a wish to speak with me. Am I correct to
believe that it pertains to Mr. Malfoy here?”
“Yes, Headmaster, it is quite important,” Severus said quirking an eyebrow and
hinting to the need for privacy. Dumbledore nodded his head.
“Of course, of course!” Dumbledore said smoothly, raising his brows as he gazed
at Severus – who nodded slightly – before turning his gaze to Draco. He smiled
at the young man who looked so much like his mother. He knew many thought the
boy was a spitting image of Lucius – and in a way he was – but there was also a
lot of Narcissa in the boy. “What can I do for you, Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco straightened himself and looked from Dumbledore to Severus and back,
before taking a deep breath. Why did it feel like his throat was trying to
close up? And why did Dumbledore’s gaze have to be so intense? He could feel
both men’s eyes staring at him, seeming to be burning holes into him. He
cleared his throat. “Headmaster, as you know, my father was arrested last year
on Death Eater activities, but is currently free. I’ve no doubt he is,” Draco
said. Dumbledore looked at the young Malfoy heir for a moment, before nodded
slowly.
“Lucius was one of the prisoners who escaped in the breakout. There hasn’t been
a full count of everyone yet, but they’ve been able to identify a few,”
Dumbledore replied, giving the boy a bit of information. Draco nodded, not
looking at all surprised by the announcement. Lucius would have been stomping
over all others to get out of there.
“I’m here because I have no desire to end up like my father. I’ve seen what his
path holds for me,” Draco continued, pushing back images of blood and gore.
“I’ve come to the decision that that’s not the path for me,” Draco said calmly,
evenly, feeling anything but on the inside.
“He’s looking to choose a different future than the one his father chose,
Albus,” Severus spoke up, and Dumbledore could hear the ‘the one I chose’ just
on the tail of that statement. “There is also a very good chance that he may be
called upon to be marked this summer.” Dumbledore nodded, folded his hands and
laid his chin atop them. He looked at the two people across from him in silence
for a long moment, thinking about had been said.
“I commend you on your courage to come forth with this Mr. Malfoy. Not many
could summon the willpower to such. Also, you’re right, Severus, but that all
depends on Mr. Malfoy here, and what he wishes to do,” Dumbledore said, looking
to the blond.
“What do you mean?” Draco asked evenly, eyes narrowed on the Headmaster
suspiciously. Dumbledore looked back at the blond, unfazed.
“Just because a person decides they don’t want to do one thing, it doesn’t mean
there are other things they’re willing to do to escape the first,” Dumbledore
said calmly. Draco remained silent, absorbing the words and contemplating
things. He and Severus hadn’t talked before coming her and Draco was also
debating whether to mention the mission or not. He wanted to turn to the man to
get some guidance, because he wasn’t sure what to do. He glanced at his
godfather, slightly startled, but endeavoring not to show it, to see black eyes
looking back at him. Severus raised an eyebrow at him, before turning back to
Dumbledore.
“There is another thing, Albus,” Severus said.
Well, that answered that, Draco thought, looking to Dumbledore who was looking
at them with slightly raised brows. Draco cleared his throat and told the man
in a somewhat stilted voice about the mission his mother had given him from the
Dark Lord. To the old man’s credit, he didn’t even bat an eye at his words,
just sat there calm as ever.
“Well,” Dumbledore said after a moment. “This does add a bit of a complication
to things.” That was an understatement if there ever was one and only made the
need for another spy more important. Dumbledore looked to Severus and held his
gaze for a long, intense moment. He was sure Severus was calculating what he
would say – suggesting – but Dumbledore wasn’t an unkind man. While he could
use this to the Light’s advantage, he wouldn’t coerce the boy into being a spy
– even if he probably would be deeper in the Death Eaters than Severus. When
Severus had turned spy he had been a bit older and had chosen his path, even
though it was taxing on the man. He looked back to the youngest of the three
and focused on him.
“Mr. Malfoy, you’ve made a great step in your decision not to join the Death
Eater, but you have another decision to make,” Dumbledore said, settling in for
a long
***** A Day of Rest and A night of Pleasure *****

Author's notes: Check first chapter
===============================================================================
Chapter 26: A Day of Rest and A night of Pleasure
When Harry was released from the hospital wing the next day, he made sure to
reassure his friends and housemates that he was okay. He had been asked
numerous times during his attendance at breakfast if he was okay, not only by
Gryffindors, but Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as well. He reassured them all, as
calmly as possible, that he was indeed fine. He ate his breakfast like normal,
ignored the worried looks and the drivel the Prophet had produced. It wasn’t
important anyway, not when he knew a bit more than those vultures did.
After breakfast Harry tired to decide what to do next. This Saturday was
supposed to be a Hogsmeade weekend, but it had been cancelled in lieu of the
attacks yesterday. He knew he wanted to talk to Draco; at least, he just had to
find a way to slip away from his friends so he could. That would be hard with
them hovering around him so insistently. It was a bit annoying, really. You
play a game of Quidditch, out-fly some Dementors and knock out some trolls, and
then win said game; aren’t you allowed to be left alone or something?
Obviously not, Harry thought with irritation, forcing a smile for Hermione and
Ron, who were giving him frequently worried looks. He knew he probably looked
bad – he felt bad, truthfully – but he didn’t want the continuous looks he kept
receiving. Finally, though, he reached his limit and stood from his seat. He
felt suffocated and trapped in a way that was all too familiar with this overly
expressed amount of sympathy.
“Guys, I’m going to go for a walk – alone,” he added, as he saw Hermione open
her mouth. She shut it and frowned.
“Harry, it might not be a good idea to go alone,” she said worriedly. “Even if
the attack was expressly directed at you yesterday, there’s still a chance
Voldemort will attack again.” Harry rolled his eyes and sighed heavily.
“Hermione, I’m not going to let it restrict me. Besides that, I need time alone
to think. You’re kind of smothering me. Both of you,” Harry said with a glance
at Ron, not able to hold back the annoyance in his tone.
Ron looked at him. “Maybe she’s right might. We don’t know if he’ll attack
again or not,” the redhead said.
“Don’t you think it wise to have someone with you just in case?” Hermione
implored.
Harry closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to argue with her
or Ron and figured he could slip away later to talk to Draco. It wasn’t a dire
need, or anything, he just had a few things to discuss with the blond. “Fine,”
Harry snapped, beginning to walk towards the portrait hole. He heard shuffle
behind him, but didn’t turn to look, guessing that Ron and Hermione were
following. He didn’t care. Sod them, he thought resentfully, sod them both. He
could protect himself and didn’t much care for the implication otherwise,
though he knew that wasn’t true. There was always the kind of situations that
required that extra help and having it could always be a plus. Still. He
ignored Hermione and Ron’s attempts at conversation and continued to walk on
determinedly.
Hermione went quiet after a while, as did Ron, and an awkward silence fell
between the three. The group made their way out to the court yard and Harry
took up residence under one of the trees that dominated the large area. Ron and
Hermione took sears as well and Harry leaned his head back against the trunk of
the tree.
Despite what he kept telling everyone about feeling fine, he didn’t feel
completely that way. He hadn’t slept well last night; too stressed, too
accosted by nightmares. He was edgy and snappy and just in a generally foul
mood. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t made more of an effort to seek out
Draco; he may have said something too harsh, and then he would feel guilty
about it. He needed to cool down first and relax a bit, which was why he had
wanted to be alone. He needed time to think and just let go for a moment.
Besides feeling edgy his arms itched something fierce. Not for a blade,
specifically, but for something. He scratched at his right arm through the
sleeve of his shirt, closing his eyes. He had the feeling things were about to
get extremely hard for him – had since late last night – and that was also
making him anxious. His gut feelings had an uncanny ability to be right too
often for his comfort.
“Harry?” Hermione’s voice spoke, breaking the silence. Harry sighed.
“Yes?” he enquired evenly.
“What do you think is going to happen now? I mean with Voldemort having
regained his followers and everything. He had been pretty quiet so far. Do you
think this is the start of it?” she asked quietly. Harry thought about that,
but had to disagree. He believed ‘it’ never really stopped. Voldemort had just
been biding his time as he planned and plotted on ways of getting his body
back. Fourth year would be when it really started, if a person wanted a more
concrete answer. It was when Voldemort had succeeded in coming back – really
coming back. He was whole with his own body and everything. He was tangible,
and even more dangerous for being so. Harry was mildly surprised at his
friend’s question. He tilted his head back up and looked at the Ron and
Hermione, both of whom sat to his left.
“No,” Harry said at last, shaking his head. “I don’t believe it ever really
stopped. From what I understand, Voldemort had lain in wait for years working
out ways to ‘resurrect’ himself, you could say.” Harry paused, and then brushed
his fringe from his eyes. “This? This is the start of a new chapter. As to what
will happen now? I don’t know, but I can assure you that Voldemort isn’t going
to be quiet any longer. He’ll have plans and such.” Harry said quietly, grimly.
He looked across the courtyard, not seeing anything before him. Each year so
far had been a new chapter in the journey of Voldemort resurrecting himself.
And now…
This current attack was Voldemort replenishing his forces, though Harry doubted
he hadn’t been recruiting. This was the start of something bigger, but it
wasn’t the start of it all, by any means.
“So You-Know-Who is going to start attacking more now,” Ron said.
“Voldemort,” Harry corrected absently, and then blinked and looked back to his
friends. “And most likely, I’d say, especially with him regaining those that
had been sent to Azkaban. He’s happy and what better way for a sadistic bastard
like him to celebrate than by killing a few dozen people?” Harry said
cynically, shrugging off their looks. If he was Voldemort he would probably do
just that. He shook his head and firmly pushed that thought from his mind.
 
“Hmm,” Hermione hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Maybe he’ll pull back for
awhile and let his recently freed followers recuperate a bit before attacking
again,” she sounded doubtful of her own suggestion, though.
Harry looked back out over the courtyard and narrowed his eyes. Then, he
snorted. “He could do that, pooling all his power and sources – readying them,
you know – and then strike. Or, he could strike with his capable Death Eaters
now and let the other recuperate. If he cared enough to do so, that is,” Harry
said. “Then again, he could do neither and completely surprise us.”
“All we can do is wait and see,” Ron said grimly, scowling at nothing in
particular. Harry nodded, but didn’t say anything. It was the truth, really.
All they could do was sit and wait to see what would happen.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
It was hard to believe that the now empty Quidditch field was overrun by
Dementors and trolls the day before. It was hard to believe that yesterday his
father had been freed from his imprisonment, but Draco was no longer in denial
about that. He was now thinking about other things. Gazing out over the pitch,
Draco wondered, not for the first time, why things were going this way for him.
He had the feeling that even if he had chosen to still join the Death Eaters
that life wouldn’t have been easier. Draco sighed and resisted the urge to rub
a hand over his face, not wanting to draw the attention of the others.
He, Blaise, Greg and Vince were sitting in the Slytherin section of the
Quidditch stands, having come out after breakfast since the visit to Hogsmeade
had been cancelled. A little ways from his small group sat Pansy and three
Slytherin girls, chattering away annoyingly. They had followed them out there
after hearing Draco say where they were heading. It irked him that Pansy had
followed him, but there wasn’t much he could say. Fortunately, she and her
group had taken up residence down a ways from them and Draco only caught their
conversation vaguely.
The students were still in a state and the Prophet over dramatized article
wasn’t helping. It talked about the other places that were attacked along with
the casualties, plus what was known of the prison breakout. Draco was sure some
of what was written was sorely exaggerated. While who escaped hadn’t been
mentioned – the Ministry hasn’t calculated the full scope on those who have
escaped, the Prophet had said – it painted the picture of the potential danger
vividly. And it definitely did its job of striking a chord among people.
But this wasn’t what was really important to Draco; not at this moment at any
rate. He was thinking back to last night and his meeting with Dumbledore. After
a few options were presented to him, he had been given time to consider what he
wanted to do. Both Severus and Dumbledore had instructed him to think
thoroughly and carefully about his decision. And Draco intended to do just
that.
“You’ve been awfully quiet today, Draco,” Pansy’s voice broke the comfortable
silence. Draco held himself from rolling his eyes at the curious tone.
“I realize you have a hard time shutting your mouth, Pansy, but some of us like
to have silence while we think. Something you’d know about if you took the
chance to do it,” Draco drawled sarcastically. Snickers erupted around him, but
Draco merely smirked at the indignant look on the girl’s face.
“I was only asking because you seemed to have a lot on your mind,” Pansy
snapped, her nose in the air. Draco did roll his eyes this time.
“Well, then, why not leave me alone?” Draco asked pointedly.
Pansy sniffed, and then looked at him. “What were you thinking about?” she
asked. Draco growled lowly. Couldn’t she take the hint that he wanted silence?
His friends had easily seen this and adjusted accordingly, but Pansy Parkinson?
Hell no, she had to pester and prod until he snapped.
“What do you think? Not that it’s any of your business,” Draco sneered, giving
her a dismissive glance. Pansy made a noise in her throat and Draco thought –
idiotically – that she would shut up.
“About your father?” she questioned, voice pitched low even though their two
groups were the only one’s around. “Don’t worry, Draco,” she said, in a tone he
thought was meant to be reassuring and sexy. It made his skin crawl. Her voice
was low and drawling, holding the hint of a tease in it. “Potter will get
what's coming to him, just you wait and see.”
Draco snorted and tossed his head back, an arrogant smirk crossing his face. “I
have no doubt of that, Pansy. Do you honestly believe my father will let
something like this go so easily? Potter was part of the reason he went to
Azkaban in the first place. Really, Pansy; don’t state the obvious,” he said
haughtily, as if the very suggestion otherwise was ludicrous. Inside, Draco was
thinking about how much the girl – and his friends, if he thought about it –
really needed to grow up. They didn’t even know what was in store for them with
this coming war, or if they became Death Eaters. Draco, himself, only knew a
bit more than them, but what he knew gave him a bit more insight. He had seen
from his father’s own memories what a Death Eater was expected do; things that
made him feel sick and disturbed. He couldn’t imagine going those things, not
even to muggles and ‘mudbloods’. He wanted to choose the best option that would
keep him alive, but one that he could deal with best without losing anymore
sanity.
Draco sighed quietly and turned to gaze out over the pitch, dismissing Pansy
and ignoring her huff of irritation. “Well,” he drawled, rising from his seat.
“I’ve got some things to do, so I’m going to head in. I’ll see you later,” he
said, focusing the words towards Blaise, Greg and Vince pointedly. He began to
make his way down.
“Where are you going, Draco?” Blaise called out curiously.
“I’ve got some work I put off doing that I need to do,” he replied simply, not
stopping his progress. He did have work to do, but he wanted to be by himself
for a bit also. He wanted to talk to Harry, too, but knew it would have to wait
until he had securely appeased his vast fan club that he was okay. He had seen
the commotion the Gryffindor had received upon entering the Great Hall that
morning and knew Harry would be tied with reassuring the masses. Besides, Draco
just wanted to yell at him for rushing off like that yesterday during the game
when the Dementors – and then the trolls – came.
He made it to his room without trouble, where he got settled on his bed, lying
on his back with his hands behind his head. He sighed, staring up at the
canopy, but not really seeing it. Truth was he had more concern about his
decision than he previously acknowledged. He had friends in Slytherin – as much
as the other houses thought otherwise on the matter. Slytherins did tend to
make friends just like everybody else; those friends just came with the added
bonus of being advantageous to you when you needed them to be, especially if
they loyal to you. And – even if he hadn’t spent much time with them that year
– Blaise, Greg and Vince were those friends for him, unbelievable as it was.
He wondered how his decision would affect his friendships, his status and
stature and his life in general. Would the actions of the father forever follow
the son, just as those of the ancestors? Most likely, but Draco had always
wanted to prove he was better. Better than others in general, better than Harry
Potter and better, even, than his own father. You could only be compared to
someone so much before bitterness starts to set in. it wasn’t out of some urge
to prove he was good, deep down, though. It was the ambition to prove he was
capable of being a mature, competent person independent of his father and all
those stereotypes people labeled him with. How would his decision affect all of
that?
Draco sighed heavily and turned onto his stomach, pillowing his head with his
arms again. There were more factors to this situation that he had considered
originally and he hadn’t realized the full scale of things until his meeting
with Dumbledore and Severus. He wondered how he could have made the decision
not to join the Death Eaters, and, yet, not think about all the consequences
and factors. Then again, he was always a lot more impulsive than any Slytherin
had any right to be.
Draco snorted to himself at that, remembering several comments from his father
about his impulsive streak. He had been the same as a child, even though his
father had tried to teach him differently. Even as a child his fathers had
strived to make him what he wanted him – Draco – to be. And while he had
learned most of those lessons, the impulsiveness never quite faded. No wonder
so many of his schemes had failed when he was younger.
But now he needed to think. Impulsiveness couldn’t rule this decision one bit.
Draco just wished someone could make the decision for him; not that he wanted
someone controlling his life, as such, but he had never expected to have to
make such hard decisions while still young. Of course, before now, he had
blindly followed his father’s ‘guidance’ and allowed the man to plan his life,
or, more accurately, he didn’t do anything to stop him. He would be the one
making decisions now, though, and he didn’t plan to make the wrong one.
His life depended on it.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
It wasn’t until Sunday evening that Harry and Draco finally got together. After
slipping the blond a note, Harry had received a reply stating that Draco wanted
to see him too. They had decided to meet in a different place, though, as Draco
would just be getting off prefect duty. So Harry went ahead and set up the Room
of Requirement – something comfortable and relaxing for them. Harry was
standing outside the door, waiting for Draco to show up, hidden underneath his
invisibility cloak. He was leaning against the wall, knowing Draco would
probably be there soon.
The last two days had been filled with talk of the attack and what it could all
mean. Even the Prophet was publishing all sorts of articles with the most
recent attack. Along with the articles there was much speculation going on
about what would happen next. It was causing a lot of added anxiety to the
students, who had been giving him odd looks for the past two days that had
begun to annoy him. He had to use a lot of self-restraint to keep from snapping
at people, because along with all that he was beginning to suffer from his
nightmares again. They hadn’t affected him in at least two months and he was a
bit agitated with the renewed lack of sleep.
Harry shook his head and sighed softly, banishing the thought of his nightmares
from his head. He didn’t want to think about them right now. He glanced up the
hall and felt relief flow through him when he saw the shock of blond hair
turning the corner. He removed his head from the cloak as Draco approached and
gave the slightly startled blond a tight smile.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that. It’s creepy,” Draco complained quirking an
eyebrow at Harry when he simply titled his head towards the door beside him and
walked in after opening it. Draco rolled his eyes and followed, shutting the
door behind him. “What with the silent, mysterious act, Potter?”
Harry sat on the big, comfortable looking couch, relaxing back into the soft
cushions and tilting his head back with a sigh. Draco smiled wryly and
stretched himself out on the couch with his head in Harry’s lap. Harry looked
down at the blond, who looked back, smiling slyly. Harry rolled his eyes, but
didn’t tell Draco to move. “Nothing much,” Harry said, finally answering
Draco’s question. “I’m just a bit off-center, you could say.”
Draco nodded against Harry’s thigh. “The attack at the Quidditch game?” Draco
guessed.
“Among other things,” Harry said, unconsciously slipping his fingers into
Draco’s hair and stroking them through the silky blond hair. Draco was only
vaguely surprised by the action, but it was relaxing so he didn’t say anything.
“I found out some things the night of the night. First off; why did you never
tell me that Snape was your godfather?”
Draco felt shock course through him at the question that was almost an
accusation. He breathed out slowly and rolled his eyes at the other boy. He
hadn’t really thought much to say anything about it, but when he did Draco
always kept in mind the hostility between Severus and Harry. “I knew how you
felt about Severus, Harry. Besides that, I didn’t think it was important. Would
it have really matter any if I told you before?” Draco asked, looking up at
Harry and quirking an eyebrow.
Harry raised his other hand to rub his face, briefly stopping Draco’s petting.
He pursed his lips, and then sighed. “I might have thought you had ulterior
motives – well, more than I was already thinking anyway. I would have been
suspicious if you were telling my secrets to Snape – which I am, by the way.
Other than that; no, it probably wouldn’t have mattered past that, but I would
have been more cautious with what I told you,” Harry said, resuming the petting
when the blond leaned his head back into Harry’s lax hand.
Draco closed his eyes, enjoying the fingers that combed through his hair.
“Would it make things better if I told you that Severus doesn’t even know we’re
on good terms, let alone, ah, dating?” Draco asked, sounding a bit unsure. They
hadn’t actually classified what was happening between them.
Harry gave Draco’s hip a squeeze in acknowledgement, but didn’t say anything
otherwise on the subject. “Yes, it would, because I would hate to have to kick
your ass because you told Snape my secrets,” Harry said lightly. Draco
chuckled, feeling the gathered tension begin to ease again.
“Whatever you say, Potter,” Draco said. He knew that when it came to telling
his godfather about everything, that it wouldn’t be an easy conversation and he
wasn’t looking forward to it.
“I also had a visit from Dumbledore that night. I think he may know – or, at
least have a vague idea – that we aren’t enemies anymore,” Harry continued. He
explained the conversation to Draco, who nodded with a slightly annoyed look.
“Bloody old man,” Draco muttered. In a louder voice, he said, “Yeah, it sounds
like he might know.” Draco debated on whether to tell Harry about his meeting
with Dumbledore or not. He saw no reason not to, as he already knew there had
been a meeting. Harry just didn’t know what it had been about. Besides that,
Harry would find out anyways, sooner or later, and Draco rather it is from him
that Harry found out. Draco explained about how he went to Severus not long
after the game. He told Harry about the talk they had without much detail,
which led him to talking about his Easter break and the mission he was
assigned. When he felt Harry tense up, he turned to look at the other boy to
see him giving him a somewhat suspicious look. Sitting up, Draco gave Harry an
irritated look, suppressing the flare of hurt he had felt at the look.
“If I had really wanted to go through with that mission, do you think I would
have told Severus, Dumbledore or you, Potter?” Draco snapped.
Harry looked at him for a long moment in which Draco seriously considered
hitting him. Hadn’t he proven himself trustworthy yet? Obviously, Draco
thought, looking at Harry still, he still expects me to betray him. And that
hurt more that Draco was willing to admit. He had wanted Harry Potter’s
friendship since day one, but that hadn’t happened. Then, after years of
animosity, he found out Harry wasn’t all he thought the boy was and they
finally became friends, and then something more lately. Even if he wouldn’t
ever admit it to anyone and would firmly deny it to himself; Draco didn’t want
to lose what he had finally gained.
Finally, Harry sighed and gave Draco a small smile. “I guess you wouldn’t have
if you had planned on going through with it,” Harry said. Draco continued to
glare and Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Draco smirked in satisfaction and put his head back in Harry’s lap. “You’re
forgiven,” he said, tone smug. “You may continue,” Draco drawled imperiously,
running a hand over his head for emphasis. Harry snorted, but resumed his early
activity. Silence reigned for long moments, before Draco continued on, telling
Harry about him and Severus going to Dumbledore and what transpired from the
meeting.
“So I’ve got time to make a decision, but it has to be before the end of the
school year,” Draco finished, opening his eyes that he had closed. Harry was
silent, absorbing all he had been told. He breathed out slowly to gather his
thoughts.
“Will you tell me your decision when you’ve finally made it?” Harry asked,
surprised at what came out his mouth a bit. He thought he would have been
giving Draco not-so-subtle suggestions on what to choose, not asking to know
once the blond made his choice.
Draco, too, was surprised at what Harry said. With a small smile, Draco said,
“Yeah I’ll tell you what I decide.” Privately, Draco thought, you’ll be the
first to know if I can help it.
There was another silence in which Harry continued to pet Draco and Draco
continued to relax against Harry’s thigh. Then, Harry chuckled throatily.
“Well, Snape won’t like this one bit – our friendship or our dating each other.
I can’t wait to see his face, though, your godfather or not, Draco,” Harry
said, laughing a bit harder. Draco could feel the vibrations as Harry laughed
and couldn’t help laughing along with him.
“I’m sure Severus will be furious and will likely rant, but you’re right. I
can’t wait to see his face!” the two had a good bout of shared mirth over that.
After calming a down a bit, Harry tugged on Draco’s hair lightly and the blond
looked up at him. Harry leaned down and kissed Draco, softly at first, but soon
the kiss turned into something more passionate and heavy. Draco slid a hand up
Harry’s neck and gently gripped the hair at the nape of his neck; even as he
opened his mouth under Harry’s probing tongue. They stayed like this, kissing
enthusiastically, until air became a necessity. They pulled apart, both
breathing heavily with dark, swollen lips. Draco took this break to sit up and
maneuver himself so he was straddling Harry’s thighs. Without preamble, Draco
dove back into the kiss and the two boys’ slid their arms around each other.
Harry’s arms tightened around Draco’s waist, pulling the blond closer. Two loud
groans split the silence as their hard erections rubbed together with delicious
friction. The kiss deepened with the action; tongues probing deeper and teeth
nipping at tender flesh as they began to rock lightly against each other. Harry
slid his hands from Draco’s back where they had been idly caressing, down, and
cupped Draco’s ass in each palm, jerking the blond’s hips down against his.
Draco clamped Harry’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugged gently as he
ground down. “Harry,” Draco rasped out, and then moaned as Harry latched onto
his throat with teeth and lips. A harsh bite was soothed by a tongue gently
bathing the area. Harry gave Draco’s a neck a firm suck, before pulling back
and scattering licks and kisses on the pale throat.
“What do you want, Draco?” Harry murmured, delivering a sharp nip to the
underside of Draco’s jaw.
Draco took a shuddering breath and tried to gather his thoughts. He knew what
he wanted – in an embarrassingly bad way – and was wondering if he should
breach the subject or not. He was nervous and he didn’t understand why. He’d
had sex before; Draco was very much aware of what was involved in the act, so
why was he nervous? It couldn’t have anything to do with Harry, could it? Draco
mentally shook the thought away as Harry placed another nip on his throat. “I
want you to fuck me,” Draco said, more breathily than he would have preferred.
Harry tensed at the words, abruptly ceasing his ministrations to Draco’s
throat, even as the words went straight to his groin. Did he really hear the
Slytherin right? He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat and pulled
back to look at Draco’s face. He felt anxious, even though he had thought – and
dreamed – about doing such with the blond. “Are you sure?” Harry asked,
somewhat shakily.
Draco groaned down, and then smirked at Harry. “Yes,” he answered simply.
Harry’s breath hitched, both at the action and words, involuntarily thrusting
up and squeezing Draco’s buttocks in his hands. Harry finally nodded jerkily,
even as he realized why he was nervous. He’d never had sex with another man
before – though, he has thought about it – and it had him more anxious then
ever. He’d done other things, but full out sex wasn’t one of those. Would he be
any good?
“I’ve never done this! With a guy, I mean,” Harry blurted out, feeling
ridiculously embarrassed. Draco smiled that small smile that crossed his face
sometimes when he was with Harry, even as he pressed a kiss to his jaw.
“I have and I’ll talk you through it. Now, shut up and kiss me,” Draco
demanded, pressing his lips to Harry’s.
Harry chuckled a bit shakily, but it soon faded and he was kissing Draco back.
He was still nervous, but excitement was beginning to work its way through him
at the thought of what they were about to do. As they kissed, Harry moved his
hands to take off Draco’s shirt, running them from his ass up and under the
pull over shirt he was wearing. He caressed up a hard torso and firm flanks,
inching the shirt up in the process.
Draco pulled back and helped tug off his shirt, tossing it carelessly to the
side without a backwards glance. Looking at Harry, Draco put his hands of the
other’s shoulders, squeezed lightly, and then dragged them down the shirt
covered chest and stomach. When he reached the hem he clutched it and began
tugging it up, eager to see Harry’s tanned body again. Harry let out a breathy
chuckle, lifting his arms to help in Draco’s mission. His shirt, too, was
tossed aside carelessly. Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry again, taking
his chance to caress the bare chest and stomach freely.
Harry slid a hand up Draco’s back, feeling the bones of his spines under his
finger tips. He folded his hand around Draco’s neck and pulled the blond in
closer, deepening the kiss. He moaned as Draco undulated his hips, grinding
down against him, and he reflexively clutched Draco’s ass that still rested in
one palm.
Draco was breathing heavily, his lips red and swollen and parted slightly as he
sucked in breaths rapidly. His arms were locked around Harry’s neck; fingers
weaved into the hair at the nape. He bent his head and nipped at Harry’s ear.
“Take it off,” he breathed into his ear, before sucking on the lobe. Harry
pulled back reluctantly and looked at Draco curiously. “The glamour,” Draco
said quietly, pulling back to look Harry in the eye. “Take the glamour off,
Harry.”
Harry’s eyes widened at the request, and then narrowed with a calculating gleam
that many never saw. “If you remove yours,” Harry said resolutely. Draco shook
his head and smirked.
“Slytherin,” Draco hissed teasingly, causing Harry to chuckle. Slowly, his
mirth died and he looked at the blond intently for a long moment, before
reaching for his wand on a side table. He pointed it at himself and cancelled
the glamour, exposing all the cuts and scars on his arms and upper body. He let
out a sigh.
Draco looked him over, taking in everything, looking at some things longer than
others. He traced a thumb over the lighting bolt shaped scar on his bicep and
gave him a questioningly quirked eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Taking hold
of his own wand, he removed the glamour calmly. “Its part of us,” Draco said
simply; and that simple statement touched a chord in Harry that he couldn’t
name. He pulled Draco into a fierce kiss, swallowing the gasp the blond made.
Draco kissed back just as fiercely, digging his fingers into Harry’s shoulders.
Trailing his fingers down Harry’s shoulders and chest, Draco grazed over flat
nipples, pinching them into small nubs. Harry gasped and arched into the touch,
suddenly realizing it wasn’t enough. He needed more; more skin, more touch,
more everything. Harry moved his hand to trail along the top of Draco’s pants,
before moving them around to unbutton and unzip them.
This would probably work even better with a bed, Harry thought hazily, pulling
back to work on getting Draco Malfoy out of his pants.
“Well, that’s interesting,” Draco drawled. Harry looked up at him as the blond
rose to his feet and began removing his pants and underwear and shoes.
“What is?” Harry asked, distracted by the smooth, pale planes of Draco’s body.
“That bed that appeared from no where, right over there,” Draco replied,
pointing in some direction behind Harry. He was now completely naked and Harry
appreciated the sight very much, but he was sidetracked by the comment. He
looked behind him and was only slightly surprised to see a four poster bed with
blue bed cloths.
“The joys of the Room of Requirement,” Harry said wryly, reaching out and
tugging Draco to him by the hips. “It provides whatever you want. Obviously.”
Harry ran his tongue over Draco’s chest, curiously flicking a nipple and
causing Draco to arch and moan deliciously. He nipped gently at the small nub
and Draco slid his hand into his hair, cursing harshly.
“Fuck! Do that again, Harry. And when you say ‘whatever’ do you mean anything a
person wants?” Draco asked.
“I suppose so, but I’m not completely sure,” Harry mumbled as he tongued
Draco’s navel. He moved his hands down and cupped Draco’s bare ass.
“Mmm, you know the basics, right?” Draco asked rhetorically, sliding his
fingers into black hair and leaning into Harry’s ministrations. Harry nodded
absently as he moved down and dragged his tongue over the head of Draco’s cock.
“Right; how about we move to the bed,” Draco suggested in a strangled voice,
thrusting forward lightly. Harry nodded and released the blond, who back up and
began heading for the bed while Harry rose from the couch, rubbing at his hard
cock through the jeans he still wore. “Take off the pants, then, and get over,”
Draco demanded impatiently.
Harry chuckled, feeling a bit of nervousness resurface, but not as much as
before. He toed off his trainers, and then began on his jeans. He finally
pulled off his pants, and then his boxers, before making his way over towards
the bed. “You’re an impatient little thing, aren’t you?” Harry asked, amused.
Draco made a noncommittal noise in his throat and pulled Harry towards him,
kissing him hard. “So, how do I get something I want from the room?”
Harry balanced himself on his hand and knees above the Slytherin, circling his
free hand around the base of Draco’s shaft and stroking slowly. The angle was
slightly awkward, but Harry managed. “Think about what you want,” Harry
breathed into his ear, licking the shell. “It should appear. Be specific.”
Draco snorted, but closed his eyes and concentrated. He opened his eyes when he
felt a sudden weight in his hand. He looked to see a big tube resting in his
palm. Well, then. Draco gasped when Harry squeezed the base of his cock, even
as he suckled a nipple and rolled it with his tongue. “Here,” Draco ground out,
wanting to get to the good part. Not that what Harry was doing wasn’t, but
Draco was eager to further the proceedings.
Harry looked up to Draco’s face, and then to the hand that the blond had
lifted. Harry took the tube, trying to suppress his anxiety. He knew what was
about to come – not pun intended. While he had been given hands-on teaching of
how to give a blow job, he had only been given the explanation of how sex
worked between two men. He had been a bit disturbed by the idea at first, but
it had slowly grown on him, helped along by dreams and time spent along with
his hands. “Right then,” he said, and then cleared his throat, embarrassed,
when it came out as a croak. “Right,” he said more evenly.
Draco lifted his head and looked at Harry, amused. “Don’t worry,” he said,
seeing the look in Harry’s eyes. “Think of this like riding a broom,” and he
grimaced at his choice of words, but continued nonetheless. “only reversed in
positions. You were a natural at that – and don’t you ever repeat that or I’ll
gut you alive – so take it all a step at a time.”
Harry stilled and looked at Draco for a moment, before bursting into laughter.
“That was a horrible description! But it did make me less nervous,” Harry said
between chuckles, leaning down and taking Draco’s bottom lip between his teeth,
before moving to kiss him. He pulled back after thoroughly invaded the blond’s
mouth and sat back on his shins, looking down at Draco and opening the tube of
lubrication. He squirted some into his hand, adding a bit more at Draco’s
instructions. Spreading the cool substance on his fingers, he warmed it
slightly, before looking back at Draco.
Draco breathed out, relaxing himself slowly and bending his knees with his feet
flat on the bed. He wasn’t as anxious as before and now was anticipating what
was about to happen. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath when a slick
hand circled the base of his cock, and then a warm mouth enveloped the tip of
his erection.
Harry began to stroke slowly with one hand while the other moved further down,
searching – and finding – Draco’s entrance. He tongued the slit of the erection
in his mouth, as he brushed a finger over the small pucker and felt Draco jerk
a bit. His eyes cut sharply to Draco’s face, sliding Draco from his mouth and
looking questioningly at the blond.
“Its okay, just keep going,” Draco said in a strained voice, relaxing again.
Harry hesitated a moment, before returning his attention to his task,
continuing to stroke the thick shaft in his hand and resuming suckling at the
head. Harry circled one lubed finger around Draco’s hole, and then pushed
against the muscle, slowly driving inwards, easing pass the first ring of
resistant muscle. He could hear Jake’s voice in his head telling him how it all
worked – sex with a man from both the position of top and bottom. Between that
and listening to the interesting noises Draco was making, Harry slowly went
about preparing the blond. From one finger to two and two to three, Harry
stretched Draco, scissoring his fingers and opening him up. He was unbelievably
hard with all the sensations he could feel – Draco’s body clenching tightly on
his fingers, the head of his cock resting heavily on his tongue along with the
taste of pre-cum and his own cock rubbing against the blanket every time he
shifted – and it was all making him thrum with pleasure.
“Harry,” Draco gasped out, even as he pushed back on the fingers invading him.
“Please – ah fuck!” Draco hissed and Harry jerked, looking at the blond
worriedly.
“Draco wha...”
“Do that again!” the Slytherin demanded. Harry quirked an eyebrow, skeptical,
but thought about what he’d just done, before realizing what the blond meant.
He brushed his fingers back over the small bump he’d passed and smiled,
realizing he’d successfully found that prostate thing Jake had told him about.
“Get on with it, Harry,” Draco snapped. Harry nodded and removed his fingers,
scooping up the tube again.
“Um,” Harry muttered, flushing hotly. “Are we going to use any, um,” Harry
broke off awkwardly, looking anywhere but at Draco.
Draco looked up and smirked. “Protection? Yeah. Bet you don’t know the spell
version of it, versus the muggle, do you? Grab my wand,” Draco said.
“How do you know about condoms?” Harry asked, rising from the bed to retrieve
Draco’s wand, still look highly flustered.
“You remember the guy in France I told you about? He was a half-blood,” Draco
said. Harry nearly dropped the wand in shock. “Later when we’re not busy,” he
added shortly, obviously impatient to get on to the proceedings. Harry handed
Draco his wand as he got back into the bed. Draco sat up on his elbows and
looked at Harry in the eye. Then, he flicked his wand and clearly spoke a
spell.
Harry barely flinched, but did tense a bit. Boyfriend – and soon-to-be lover –
or not, it was still disconcerting to have someone point a wand at you. As the
spell was spoken, Harry felt the lightest of pressures surround his cock with a
tingle of magic. He glanced up at Draco, but the Slytherin just shook his head
and tossed his wand aside.
“Later,” he repeated. Harry nodded and grabbed the tube of lube again. He
squirted a healthy amount onto his hand, and then smoothed it over his hard
shaft, hissing at the urge to keep stroking. He pulled his hand away
reluctantly and Draco took the initiative to spread his legs a bit more. Harry
clutched the base of his own cock and guided himself to Draco’s entrance. With
a nervous sigh, Harry edged forward and entered Draco a bit, who hissed through
his teeth. Harry looked up at him. “Push in, in one slow thrust,” Draco bit
out. Harry nodded again, breathed steadily to calm himself at the feeling of
such tightness and heat, and then pushed the rest of the way in slowly in one
smooth thrust, gasping harshly. He held still, overwhelmed by the feeling of
Draco around him, of himself in Draco. The tightness almost made him lose it,
but he breathed in and out, struggling to gain control.
Draco lay there, adjusting to the intrusion and panting lightly. It felt
unbelievably good, this sense of being filled and stretched. It was pleasure
with an edge of pain. Draco shifted, heard Harry gasp, and smiled at the
blacked haired boy, quirking an eyebrow also.
Harry pulled out halfway, and then thrust back in firmly, groaning at the tight
embrace around his cock. His groan matched Draco’s own. He moved his hands to
Draco’s hips and clutched them as he repeated the movement. He looked down at
Draco and pressed a hard kiss to the blond’s mouth, feeling Draco return it
equally. Draco pushed back against harry’s thrusts, moaning with interspersed
whimpering as he arched up. When Draco demanded “harder” and “faster”, Harry
obliged and began pounding into him. He tilted the blond’s hips up a bit and
pushed into Draco, who gave a loud, drawn out, deep sounding moan. Keeping the
angle, Harry continued to thrust into Draco, feeling his stomach tighten with
his oncoming orgasm. Slipping one hand off a pale hip, Harry took hold of
Draco’s erection and began stroking it falteringly, before he reached a
somewhat steady rhythm.
Harry looked down at Draco who was flushed and sweating, clutching the sheets
and trembling. The Slytherin’s hair was plastered to his face and forehead and
he never looked more attractive in harry’s hazy opinion. The sights, the sounds
Draco was making and the squeeze around his erection were too much and he came
with an embarrassingly loud groan, tightly shutting his eyes. He felt something
warm and sticky coat his hand a few seconds later and he opened his eyes to see
Draco’s cum on his hand and Draco’s stomach. Harry shuddered and collapsed onto
Draco, sated and exhausted. Draco seemed to be in a similar state as his legs
fell limply from Harry’s waist. They were both panting heavily.
Draco could feel minute tremors racking his body as he slowly cam back from his
sexual high. That had been intense. Harry had hit his prostate enough times to
make the experience great. Slowly, his heart ceased its rapid beating and his
breathing came under a steadier pace. He shifted and decided to rouse Harry, as
the boy’s body was finally beginning to feel heavy to him. “Harry, move it,
you’re getting heavy,” Draco said.
Harry let out a weak chuckle at that, but rose and pulled himself from Draco.
“Sorry,” he muttered, flopping back down on his stomach next to the blond. He
had his head turned so he could look at Draco. “You alright?”
“I’m bloody amazing,” Draco quipped, turning on his side with a slight wince.
Harry eyed him a moment, before nodding and smiling tiredly.
“That was good,” Harry said with a sigh. Draco raised an eyebrow at that.
“I think I deserve better than ‘good’,” Draco teased, the beginnings of a smirk
twisting his lips.
Harry grinned at the banter. “What do you mean ‘you deserve’? I did all the
bloody work!”
Draco smiled full out. “My ass was the one giving all that delicious pressure
to you cock, Potter. I think I deserve a bit more credit.”
Harry gave a low, rumbling laugh, lifting himself up onto his elbow. “If you
say so, Malfoy. It was great, better than I thought sex with a guy would be.”
Draco simply smirked in satisfaction, before reaching for his wand to clean up
the mess. With a flick and a muttered spell all traces of semen was gone. He
set his wand aside again and lay back down. Harry scooted closer and pulled the
blond near him, feeling the press of bare skin. Then, he pulled the Slytherin
into a languid kiss, sucking on his bottom lip. They kissed for long moments,
simply enjoying the easy going kiss with lazy satisfaction.
There was silence for a bit, before Draco spoke. “We should probably be heading
back to out dorms soon,” the blond said quietly. Harry simply nodded and Draco
didn’t press it. They were both feeling relaxed and too good to get up at that
point. Harry slid a hand over Draco’s stomach, tracing the contours with his
fingers lazily. He mapped an old, faded scar on Draco’s side that was about
three or four inches long in a slightly ragged pattern.
“Where’d you get that?” Harry asked quietly.
Draco looked at him for a moment, and then sighed softly. “This past summer, at
the manor, I used a piece of glass because I didn’t want to get my dagger which
had been too far away at the time,” Draco said, shrugging awkwardly from his
position. Harry hummed, before removing his fingers. “And wasn’t one lightning
bolt scar enough for you?”
Harry chuckled derisively at that and shook his head. “I was feeling
particularly bad when I did that. I don’t even know why I did it like that.”
“I would say you’re weird, but I’d feel too much like a hypocrite. I do think
it looks cool, though. Much better than your other one,” Draco said. Harry gave
him a funny look, and then shook his head with a wry smile.
“How we could find something so morbid, so coo, is beyond me,” Harry said with
amusement in his voice. As if to prove his point, Harry leaned down and licked
the scar on Draco’s side he had been playing with earlier with one slow, long
draw of his tongue. Draco shivered slightly and Harry pulled back with a smirk.
“Let’s get dressed and get out here, yeah? We do have classes tomorrow, you
know.”
Draco snorted, but rose from the bed anyway. “Yeah, we should do that,” he
replied. They dressed, talking and teasing each other good-naturedly as they
did so. Harry was amazed at the lack of awkwardness between them. He was sure
it would come later, once he really thought about it all, but right then it was
nice to just feel relaxed. Once he was dressed, Harry pulled out the Marauder’s
Map and his cloak.
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
“I think that’s cool and bloody convenient,” Draco said, looking down at the
map. Harry had shown it to him not to long ago and Draco had been completely
amazed by it.
“See, Gryffindors are good for something,” Harry teased, still looking at the
map.
“Hmm, yes, they are,” Draco said suggestively, leering at Harry. Harry flushed
and shifted on his feet. Ah, there’s the awkwardness, Harry thought.
“Anyway, the first three floors down are currently clear, including this one.
Fourth down has got Filch on it, but he’s not where you need to go,” Harry
said.
“I’ll use a Disillusionment Charm to keep me hidden. We can’t all have
invisibility cloaks, you know,” Draco said with a put upon sigh. “I’ll be
fine.”
“If you get caught, I promise not to laugh too much at your misfortune,” Harry
teased.
“Thanks Potter. Really,” Draco drawled dryly. The two walked towards the door,
ready to separate. Draco turned and pushed Harry against the wall, attaching
his lips to the others. Harry got over his surprise rather quickly and the
engaged in a long, hard kiss. Draco pulled back and smirked at Harry, who
grinned back. “See you later, Scarhead,” Draco said, performing the spell.
Harry donned his cloak with a chuckle. “You, too, Ferret,” Harry replied. The
door was opened and the two departed from the Room of Requirement silently.
Back in his dorm, lying in bed, Harry thought about what had happened that
night. He could feel the – most likely – goofy smile on his face and the blush
on his cheeks as he did so. He couldn’t believe he’d just shagged a bloke and
Draco Malfoy at that. It was such a wonderful experience, but Harry had to
wonder. Would it change things between them? Would there be awkwardness there
that had faded once they had become real friends? They were questions that
plagued his mind, but for now he would simply sleep and be content with the
memories of that night.
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