A/N: This will focus on the love story between the two boys, with other minor pairings on the side. The timeline will delve into the war but will not focus on the battle aspects, but how it affects their relationship. So don't expect James Bond type of action here. Also, obviously, this is hugely AU since the fifth book. Alas, I have decided to let Sirius remain dead. But the SBRL pairing will be one of those important secondary relationships mentioned.

Also, it's a bit rich of me to start a chaptered story (which I'm not so good at but am trying) when I'm rather busy with duty and requirements. Ah well, all in the name of love, yes?

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The Many Phases of Love

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Confusion

Harry narrowed his eyes, wondering if it was possible to set someone on fire just by glaring. He was a wizard and so if Harry tried hard enough, then the blond hair on Malfoy's head could burst into spontaneous flames. They were in Transfiguration class and McGonagall had given them thirty minutes to try and change the cushions into porcupines. Malfoy and his friends were sitting in the front row, causing Hermione to relocate to the middle seats with a miffed huff.

The pale blue cushion sat on Harry's desk, his wand clutched tightly in his hand. Harry couldn't help but feel irritated every time he glimpsed the swotty blond hair. He couldn't tell exactly why he was angry, proven when he just shrugged helplessly in face of Ron and Hermione's questions, but there was a prickly sensation in his chest whenever he saw the Slytherin. Ron had assured him it was perfectly normal to feel that way around Malfoy because the other boy was a right git and that was reason enough.

To which, Hermione had rolled her eyes and said, "Honestly, you are such boys. He hasn't even said or done anything to us and yet you're being purposely antagonistic. He can be civil, you know, no matter how much of a stretch to the imagination it is."

The conversation had quickly spiraled into an argument between the two, Ron demanding when Hermione and Malfoy had acted so chummy and Hermione snapping that she just thought it was possible, because everyone had the capacity to be polite deep, deep down inside!

"Harry, McGonagall's looking at you," Ron leaned in and whispered. "She's going to come over if you don't start transfiguring your cushion."

McGonagall's eyes were trained on Harry's table, her mouth straightening in disapproval at the lack of spell casting. Harry quickly waved his wand in the downward motion McGonagall had showed them earlier, muttering the incantation. He felt the magic tugging past his arm and his cushion turned into a small porcupine but with curved spikes.

Ron scowled. "Bloody hell, how did you do that? My cushion only grew spikes."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe your wand movement was wrong." He turned the animal back into a cushion, hoping to try again. It wasn't surprising anymore when Harry could perform spells faster and more accurately, using a greater amount of power than in the past. He had used the Levitation charm to get his book a week ago and it had rocketed to the ceiling, causing the tome to explode in a shower of paper. Things like that had been happening since last year, on his sixteenth birthday. Even his schoolwork had improved, which included Potions much to Snape's displeasure.

On his third try, Harry managed to transfigure a perfect porcupine, alert and wary with his new living mind. McGonagall immediately appeared next to their table, nodding curtly in approval.

"Very good, Mr. Potter." The professor took her own wand and turned it back into a cushion. "Now, repeat it if you would. Everyone, take note of the precision of his wand movement, just exactly 10 centimeters in length but still smooth and graceful. Do you hear the stressed sound of his 'u'? The most common mistake in turning an inanimate object into an animal is the lack of stress in the spell. Well done, Mr. Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor."

It was not unusual for McGonagall to let the student who first mastered the spell perform in front of the class though for Harry it was a novel experience. Usually, it was Hermione who got it right immediately, or some of the Ravenclaws.

Ron grinned and clapped Harry on the back. In the past, his redheaded friend would have kept a tiny grudge against him for showing off even if Harry hadn't intended to flaunt his spellwork. This time though, being made captain of the Quidditch team had satisfied some sort of secret competition inside Ron and he couldn't help but be supportive, especially when a small pinched look came over Hermione's face. She was the acknowledged brains and talent of their trio and having Harry slowly ascend to her level made Hermione feel a little superfluous, although they all knew that neither Harry nor Ron could ever come near to Hermione's brilliance and logic.

Hermione turned back to her cushion, eager to make it right. Harry noticed that the Slytherins were jeering at him, muttering semi-loudly at Harry's arrogant display.

Golden boy this, disgustingly perfect good-doer that, they hissed. They dared not to make their voices louder, already taking advantage over the fact that McGonagall was too distracted by Neville's disastrous attempts of turning his cushion into a porcupine (his turned into living, irritated feathers that formed mouths and bit at Neville's poor fingers).

Harry mostly ignored them though he felt that familiar annoyance in his chest. He gave them a glare which they just sneered at. Malfoy on the other hand had been keeping rather quiet, nodding once in a while to his housemates' insults,. His eyes met Harry's and he quirked a brow in a slightly mocking fashion before he turned back to his cushion. The rest of the Slytherins followed.

That was it, Harry realized with widening eyes, wondering why he hadn't understood sooner. Malfoy was acting strangely these past few weeks. He had been on a vengeful rampage ever since the start of their sixth year, cursing hexes and curses at Harry, detention be damned. They had physical altercations, resulting in overnight stays at the Infirmary and a sound scolding from Madam Pomfrey. But now that the end of term was nearing, those confrontations had lessened until they ceased all together. Malfoy no longer provoked Harry, or caught him with a vicious curse unawares.

In fact, the only thing Malfoy did was stare at Harry in the same half-mocking way, as if he found something about Harry disbelieving.

"Harry, are you all right, mate?" Ron asked, waving a hand in front of Harry's staring eyes.

Harry blinked. "Oh. Uh, yeah, I was just thinking, that's all."

Two tables in front, Blaise Zabini couldn't help but say loudly, "No wonder you don't do it enough if it takes that much effort!" How he could have heard that far away was a mystery.

The Slytherins erupted into laughter, including Malfoy, while the Gryffindors argued on behalf of their housemate. Harry rolled his eyes at the commotion, especially when Ron and Seamus started shouting obscenities at Zabini, who yelled right back.

McGonagall swooped down on them, breathing heavily like a furious bull. "Silence! Zabini, Weasley and Finnigan detention tonight for disrupting class and the use of crude, offensive language!"

The class quieted into grumbles. Hermione threw a glare at Ron. "Really, you shouldn't have risen to his baiting like that. You know better, Ron, and now you have another detention."

Ron puffed up his chest, not in the least bit dismayed. "Doesn't matter, Hermione. One always has to defend one's best mate. Harry would do the same thing, wouldn't you? "

"Of course. Even if it means a dozen detentions with Filch," Harry answered loyally and Ron beamed.

Hermione sighed. "You boys, honestly."

"You always say that," said Ron.

They started to mildly bicker in their own affectionate way and Harry was left to stare in bemusement at the back of Malfoy's gleaming head for the rest of the class.

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TBC